BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME FROM THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND THE GIFT OF M^nvQ W. Sage 1891 f\.A0j2k(e (ejMifSOL, S901 Cornell University Library PR 3071.L88 The text of Shakespeare; its history from 3 1924 013 164 540 Cornell University Library The original of tiiis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013164540 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE ^liabesfpearean Mars; I SHAKESPEARE AS A DRAMATIC ARTIST Already Published II SHAKESPEARE AND VOLTAIRE Already Published III THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE ITS HISTORY FROM THE PUBLICATION OF THE QUARTOS AND FOLIOS DOWN TO AND INCLUDING THE PUBLICATION OF THE EDITIONS OF POPE AND THEOBALD BY THOMAS R. LOUNSBURY, L.H.D., LL.D., Professor of English in Yale University NEW YORK CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 1906 Copyright, 1906, By Charles Scribneu's Sons Published September, igob THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A. CONTENTS Chafteb Paqe I. The Dramatic Situation in Siiakespeake'8 Time 1 II. Attitude towards Plays of the Playwrights 26 III. Differences of the Early Texts 50 IV. The Earliest Editions op Shakespeare ... 67 V. Pope's Edition of Shakespeare 77 VI. Popii's Treatment of the Text . .... 99 VII. The Early Career of Theobald 121 VIII. Theobald's Dramatic Ventures 139 IX. Shakespeare Restored 155 • X. Theobald's Attitude towards Pope .... 176 XI. Pope's Preliminary Attack 198 XII. The Original ' Dunciad ' . 225 XIII. 'The Dunciad' of 1729 241 XIV. Errors about ' The Dunciad ' 258 XV. Shakespeare Controversy of 1728 295 XVI. Arrangements for Theobald's Edition . . . 322 XVII. Warburton's Attack on Pope 340 XVIII. The Allies OF Pope 363 XIX. The Grub-Street Journal 384 XX. The Attack on Verbal Criticism 408 XXI. Theobald's Edition and its Reception . . . 438 XXII. The Spread of Pope's Influence 460 XXIII. Difficulties in Theobald's Way 489 XXIV. Defects of Theobald's Edition 514 XXV. Theobald's Later Reputation 534 Index ^^^ PREFACE The two previous volumes of this series have been given up to the consideration of the controversies which deal with Shakespeare as a dramatic artist. The ground covered had, to some extent at least, been already gone over by several. It is a theme indeed upon which many profess to have what they are pleased to call a general knowledge. But both experience and observa- tion show that the profession of general knowledge is usually coincident with the possession of specific igno- rance; and there may be occasion later to exemplify the confusion which is sure to arise when limited infor- mation on this subject unites with unlimited assumption to draw inferences and deduce conclusions. But what- ever may be true of the controversy in regard to Shake- speare as a dramatic artist, about most of the matter contained in the present volume there is no general knowledge; at least what there is going under that name is usually based upon misapprehension where it is not itself positively erroneous. The settlement of the text of Shakespeare, so far as it can be called settled, has been the work of successive generations of scholars. It was transmitted to later times in a state more or less imperfect. To restore it vii PREFACE to its presumed primitive integrity engaged from an early period the attention of a constantly increasing number of men interested in the writings of the great dramatist. The result of their labors, as we find it to-day, has been reached gradually. The establishment of the right reading was at the outset attended in numer- ous instances with difficulties of which we at the present time hardly dream. It was not merely that the knowl- edge of words, or of meanings once belonging to words, had been lost. It was not merely that much of the grammar of the Elizabethan period was no longer under- stood. There was almost complete ignorance of the methods which needed to be employed to rescue the text from the corruption into which it had been plunged by the ignorance of type-setters, the indifference of proof- readers, and the incompetence of editors. By the dawn of the nineteenth century the authorita- tive consideration of the text of Shakespeare and of the proper manner of treating it had passed into the hands of specialists. There it has since remained. But this was not so in the beginning. Nothing is more noticeable in the history of the original efforts directed towards the rectification of the readings than the extent to which the task was undertaken by men of letters as distin- guished from scholars. Especially was this true of a good part of the eighteenth century. There was then a disposition to look upon the position of the specialist as ridiculous and his action as an impertinence. It is the participation in the work of revision of authors of all grades of eminence that gives a peculiar character viii PREFACE to the earlier controversies whicli sprang up. It makes the discussion of the text of Shakespeare to some extent a part of the literary history of the eighteenth century, as it has never been that of any period since. Ifo one needs to be told that the establishment of the text has been attended throughout with controversies. These have occasionally been long and have often been bitter. Deplorable as has been the ill-feeling sometimes engendered, great as has been the injustice sometimes wrought, none the less is it true that through the agency of these wordy wars the knowledge of the whole subject has been perceptibly advanced. ISTever has this observa- tion been more true than of the first, the most protracted and the most important of them all. This is the alter- cation that went on betAveen Pope and Theobald. It was the differences between these rival editors that opened the era of controversy which has continued with little cessation to our own day. Accordingly the subject of the present volume, taken up as it is with the history of this controversy, begins, strictly speaking, with the fifth chapter. Whatever value the work possesses must be determined by that which follows after. "V\Tiat appears previously is de- signed to set forth the causes existing in the dramatic situation of the Elizabethan age which rendered con- troversy about the text of Shakespeare not merely pos- sible but practically inevitable. These introductory chapters have in consequence been made as brief as could be done, consistently with giving the reader any proper comprehension of the matters upon which they ix PRE FA CE totich; for while the facts contained in them are of first importance in serving to explain why it was that the plays of Shakespeare came down in the corrupt condition they did, they are of stibsidiary importance in the discussion of that which constitiites the main sub- ject of the present treatise. In setting out to give an account of this controversy a problem of peculiar difficulty presented itself. How happened it that the one man whose extensive learning and exceptional acumen have done more — if the cir- cumstances are taken into consideration — towards rec- tifying the text of Shakespeare than has been effected by any single editor since, should nevertheless have , gained the reputation of being extraordinarily dull ? The superiority of the Avork Theobald accomplished was acknowledged willingly or grudgingly — in general grudgingly — by his contemporaries and immediate successors. He set forth both by example and precept the proper methods by which the original could be re- stored. He brought clearness to places to all appear- ances hopelessly obscure. He made emendations to the text which became at once so integral a part of it that none but special students are now aware that the reading universally found is not the reading which the earliest authorities contain. All later editors have profited by the results of his labor and abilities, none more so than the men who have been conspicuous in maligning him. Yet his name speedily became and long remained a synonym for a dimce. Such indeed it still continiies to be with that part of the educated public who are not X PREFACE sufficiently educated in this matter to know the false- ness of the beliefs they have inherited from the past. To make clear how this condition of things was brought about requires the consideration of numerous details in the literary history of the eighteenth century which seem far removed from any questions connected with the text of Shakespeare. It requires in partictilar a full discussion of several productions which exerted marked influence in causing the estimate to be taken of Theobald that came to prevail. Of these the first and far the most eifective was ' The Dunciad.' This satire was a Shakespearean document pure and simple. Turthermore, it is the greatest work in English litera- ture to which Shakespearean controversy has given birth. But it is not of that form of it which we find printed to-day, it is not of that form of it with which we are all now familiar, that this assertion holds good. ' The Dunciad ' which played so important a part in Shakespearean controversy has practically passed away both from the memory and the sight of men. There are modern editions of Pope's works Avhich reprint it as it appeared in 1728, as a sort of appendix to its present form. But the enlarged and complete form which it assumed in 1729 and held for the fourteen years following, with the elaborate textual apparatus accompanying it, has never been reproduced in any- thing like its entirety. The recast of 1743 not merely changed its character, it removed almost entirely its significance as a factor in Shakespearean controversy. The substitution of a new hero rendered necessary the xi PREFACE omission or alteration of lines referring to the original hero, or their application to some one else. More than that, it swept out of existence all the notes bearing directly or remotely upon the proper method of editing the text of Shakespeare. The result is that men have come to forget that ' The Dunciad ' had its life breathed into it by the inspira- tion of Shakespearean controversy. From it, as it now appears, it would be impossible to get any real concep- tion of the agencies which called it into being. In par- ticular, the relation which it bore to Theobald and his criticism of Pope's edition of Shakespeare never receives from those discussing the satire its due emphasis, and sometimes not even so much as an allusion. Further- more, the truth of the statements about him contained in its notes has never been made the subject of investi- gation. The very notes about him and his Avork have themselves nearly all disappeared; but the falsehoods found in them which Pope set in circulation have never ceased to be repeated, and may be said to flourish still in their original vitality. Many of these misrepresentations of the original hero have now become so hoary with age that though far from venerable they are treated with veneration. They have been accepted as true not only by his enemies but by his friends. One example must sufBce; but it is a significant one. ISTone have been more cordial in recognizing the service rendered by Theobald to the text of the dramatist than the editors of the invaluable edi- tion which goes under the name of the Cambridge Shake- PB.EFA CE speare. Yet we find in the preface to that work a state- ment about him to the effect that he was " in the habit of communicating notes on passages of Shakespeare to ' Mist's Journal,' a weekly Tory organ." This assertion was one of the growths of that fertile breeding-ground of baseless insinuation and deliberate misstatement, the prose conmientary to ' The Duneiad ' of 1729 and its immediate successors. It has been repeated con- stantly. How little there is of truth in it, or rather how much there is of falsehood, any one will discover to his fullest satisfaction who takes the trouble to read the sixteenth chapter of the present volume. Even the mere list of Theobald's letters contained in the index under his name will furnish an ample corrective. The difficulty, therefore, with the modern accounts of ' The Duneiad ' is that they are based essentially upon the final form which it came to assume. It has not been approached from the Shakespearean side, the only side from which it could be properly understood. Accord- ingly the circumstances which occasioned its creation have either been disregarded entirely or have met with that slight perfunctory mention which hides instead of revealing their significance. I think I may venture to say, without making an undue claim for myself or intending any disparagement of the work accomplished by others, that in this volume the story of the original ' Duneiad ' has been told for the first time in its en- tirety ; the motives set forth which led to its production ; the steps which marked its inception and progress ; the immediate as well as remote effects wrought by it. In xiii PREFACE addition the erroneous statements are exposed which are still repeated and credited as to the havoc it wrought. In making this assertion I am fully aware of the great labor which has already been spent upon the elucidation of the problems connected with the production of the satire. So far indeed am I from underrating the value of the results reached by the exertions of others that it seems hardly necessary to say that had not they done what they did, it would have been impossible to carry forward to any successful completion the work for which they paved the way. He indeed who devotes himself to the study of any special literary or historical subject soon comes to recognize that he must build upon the foundations laid by his predecessors. Even the errors into which they have been betrayed cannot be corrected without the aid of the materials which they have sup- plied; and it would be an ungrateful as well as an ungracious task not to acknowledge the obligation he is under to the very men whose assertions he denies and whose conclusions he controverts. I speak this in par- ticular with reference to the edition of Pope by Elwin and Courthope, the one to which references are regu- larly made in the notes. I have had occasion to point out a few errors in this work and could have pointed oiit some others. Yet without the help furnished by it, not only would my own labors have been vastly increased, but I should have been left in many cases in doubt where it is now possible to feel that certainty has been reached. But a still further difficulty early presented itself. The original ' Dunciad ' was primarily designed to xiv PREFACE attack the critic of Pope's edition of Shaliespeare and to turn into ridicule the methods he had put forth to restore the text of the plays. But while that was the main object, it was not the only object. Pope made use of the work to assail all his enemies or supposed enemies. In the case of some of these the feeling displayed surpassed in virulence and intensity that manifested towards the man who occasioned the satire itself and had been chosen its hero. In consequence the Shake- spearean quarrel became involved with and to no small extent merged in numerous other quarrels in which the poet was concerned. One great object originally held in view in the preparation of this volume was to disen- gage it from these with which it had become associated and intermixed. But it became at last evident that it was not possible — at least it was not within the pos- sibility of any powers of mine — to disentangle it from the many with which it had become interwoven, and at the same time give any proper conception of the atti- tude and acts of the protagonists in the Shakespearean controversy. Were it detached entirely from the rest, the devices to which Pope resorted to discredit his rivai editor would be at best but imperfectly apprehended, certainly not fully comprehended. JSTo other course seemed to lie open than to give a fairly complete account of the various agencies which Pope made use of in the numerous controversies in which he was a participant, so far as the Shakespearean quarrel had any connection with them at all. The enforced change of plan has not merely delayed the publication of the present volume, XV preface: but has rendered it necessary to defer to a future one an account of the later controversies about the text which went on during the eighteenth century. Hence this work, instead of being devoted exclusively to its professed subject, is largely taken up with matters in which that is concerned but indirectly. Though never lost sight of, it cannot be denied that it plays a very insignificant part in some of the chapters. In truth the present volume deals almost as much with Pope as it does with Shakespeare; as much with cer- tain phases of the literary history of the eighteenth century as it does with any discussion of the changes which have been made in the text of the plays. Nearly all the authors of the period, whether eminent or obscure, appear in its pages. The method of proceeding adopted required the perusal of the writings of the now little known men whom Pope assailed, and of the equally little known men whom he praised. It further imposed the necessity of going carefully through the ephemeral liter- ature of the period ■ — much of it not easily accessible — • the essays, the pamphlets, the miscellanies, the maga- zines, the daily and weekly journals. The reading of numerous forgotten books, the examination year by year of numerous forgotten newspapers, is hardly so much a coiirse of penitential as it is of penitentiary reading. Yet this study of the dusty records of a neglected past, however toilsome and tedious, has had its compensations. It has cast an entirely new light upon several transac- tions. It has revealed the baselessness of a number of beliefs which have been accepted as true in literary xvi PREFACE history. It has furnished the means of securing the precise form of the sentences which Pope misquoted or garbled to serve his own. ends, of exposing the ingenuity of his disingenuousness, and of bringing out clearly the vague and shadowy nature of the relation existing be- tween any given fact and his account of it. There were certain other matters which needed expli- cation before the merits of the controversy could be understood. It has been found incumbent to give an account of several of the minor pieces which came out during the period under survey. Nor could some of the newspaper organs, in which discussion was carried on, be overlooked. In particular I have devoted a whole chapter to the history of Pope's personal organ, the ' Grub-street Journal.' This publication has never received the attention it deserves in any study of the numerous quarrels in which the poet took part. Its actual editorship, I feel confident, has been established in these pages. The assignment to this post of Dr. Eichard Eussell, given in all recent biographies of Pope and in all books of reference, can hardly be anything but an error. I may add further, that the confusion existing in these works between two physicians with this same name has been dissipated by the research of Miss E. J. Hastings of London, who has kindly com- municated to me the results of her investigations. To the settlement of the vexed questions connected with the bibliography of ' The Dunciad ' the examina- tion of the periodical literature of the period has con- tributed some further aid. The new facts adduced xvii PREFACE seem to me to justify all the inferences whicli are drawn as to the reasons which led to the adoption of the mys- terious operations connected with the publication of ' The Dunciad ' of 1728 and of 1729, as well as turn- ing into certainties the beliefs commonly held as to the time and order of the appearance of the several editions belonging to the latter year. Certain details here given would indeed be subject to modification, if any pub- lisher or even bookseller named Dod or Dob could be shown to have been in existence. Such a fact would prove that they were real beings, and not, as is hero assumed, mere dummies created by Pope for his own purposes. But the main contention would not be afFeeted, even were it discovered that such men actually had a being. All that needs to be said here is that before venturing to express an opinion on this point I exam- ined scores and scores of title-pages and scores and scores of book advertisements and never once met with either of these names save as publishers of ' Dunciad ' editions of 1729. On the other hand, A. Dodd, whose existence has been denied, was a very real person. The name is found then and subsequently on the title-pages of a number of books. Whether it denotes a man or a woman is not so easy to ascertain ; for in some of the newspapers of the time a Mrs. Dodd appears as a book- seller with a shop in the neighborhood of Temple Bar. Of some interest, if not of importance in Shakespear- ean controversy, was one discovery which, though much longed for, came to me, after all, unexpectedly, while wading through this apparently interminable bog of xviii PREPACB periodical literature. A chance allusion in the corre- spondence of Theobald and Warburton, contained in Nichols's ' Illustration of the Literary History of the Eighteenth Century ' — cited in the notes simply as Mchols — had long led me to feel confident that War- burton at this early period had published three anony- mous articles attacking Pope. But all memory of them had vanished utterly. Not so much as an allusion to them has ever been made either by his friends or enemies. In fact it is apparent that hardly any one during his life- time and no one after his death had even suspected the existence of such pieces, far less known of them. There was consequently no hint to be found in any quarter as to the place where, and scarcely any as to the time when these articles had made their appearance. To search for them seemed therefore very much like looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack. It was my good fortune, however, to light upon them in a London daily paper of 1729. A summary of their contents will be found in the seventeenth chapter. They furnish proof which cannot be gainsaid, of the virulently hostile atti- tude, previously suspected, which Warburton at that time held towards the man whose champion and bene- ficiary he was later to become. They have furthermore a certain interest as containing the first of any emenda- tions of his which appeared in print. These are not many and their value does not make up for their rarity. A few of them have never found record in any vario- rum edition. It is for their curiosity rather than for their importance that they have here been exhumed from xix PREFACE tlie newspaper grave in which they have lain buried for a period approaching two centuries. The results here presented of the study made both of the subject and of the literary history of the period under consideration undoubtedly tend to impart a higher estimate of Theobald's ability and achievement than has been entertained even by those who have shown themselves most favorable in their judgment. In this respect they are in full accord with the general trend of later Shakespearean investigation. The number of examples given of emendations he made have been cited, however, for something else than to establish be- yond question the existence of the learning and the acumen which he brought to bear upon the revision of Shakespeare's dramatic works. They have been largely introduced to show to the reader who has paid no special attention to the subject the status of the original text and the methods which have been followed to bring it into its present condition of comparative perfection. A few illustrations of the alterations he made will convey a clearer comprehension of the difficulties that had to be met and overcome than would pages of general observation. But though the facts revealed in these investigations turn out distinctly favorable to Theobald, they have in no case been manipulated in order to produce whatever impression they convey. So far as one can be permitted to trust his own motives, I have not been conscious of the least inclination to give an account of any circum- stances which is not in accordance with the precise truth ; XX PREFACE or to draw any inferences or to make any assertions which were not supported by reasonable and even con- vincing proofs. This has been particularly my aim in the case of those statements which conflict with views generally held or beliefs assumed as established in cur- rent literary history. I hold no brief for Theobald. I have not neglected to point out places where his state- ments were wrong and his conclusions mistaken, or where his conduct was censurable. There is no reason for according him qualities and qualifications to which he is not entitled because he has been misrepresented and maligned for centuries, and has been called dull by men who were themselves duller than he could ever have thought of being. Finally, let it not be fancied that I delude myself with the belief that the facts here presented, incontro- vertible as they are, will reverse the verdict passed upon the man by ages too prejudiced to consider fairly, too indifferent to feel concern, too indolent to investigate. The world cares very little for justice. It is not indeed solicitous about it in the case of its greatest names, if the trouble of ascertaining truth overbalances to any extent the comfort which attends the acceptance of easy falsehood. Immeasurably more will this disinclination exist in the case of an obscure scholar of whom few know and about whom fewer care. To some the subject itself wiU be a weariness, to most a matter of absolute indiffer- ence. It is for that comparatively small class who are interested in the history of the text of Shakespeare ; of that other small class who are interested in the literary xxi PREFACE history of the eighteenth century and of the character and acts of its foremost poet ; and of that smallest of all classes, made up of those who are anxious that justice should be rendered to a humble but much maligned scholar to whom all readers of the greatest of dramatists are profoundly indebted — it is mainly for the men of these classes that this volume has been prepared. xxn THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEAEE CHAPTER I THE DRAMATIC SITUATION IK SHAKESPEARE'S TIME Where is to be found the best text of Shakespeare's works ? Of the many editions before the pubhc, which is the one to be preferred ? These are questions which are pretty certain to be asked by him who is about to take up for the first time the study of that author's dramatic productions. It may and it sometimes does cause a feeling of disappointment when the answer is made — as no other answer can fairly be made — that not only is there no best edition of Shakespeare's works, but there never can be and never will be one. By this best edition is meant of course that which is so reckoned by the concurrent and concurring voices of all entitled to speak with authority. Doubtless there may be one which will receive the large majority of the suffrages of a particular period. But the only man who could have compelled the assent of every one to the readings he chose was Shakespeare himself. Inasmuch as he failed to establish definitively the text, we can continue confi- dent that so long as the knowledge and taste and judg- ment of men vary, no edition will ever attain to that authoritative position in which it is received as the standard one for all time. 1 1 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE If the plays of Shakespeare, like his two principal poems, had been brought out under his own supervision, the text would for all practical purposes have been settled for us finally. We might find fault with it ; we might suggest improvements in it; we might profess our inability to understand it; we might object to particular words and phrases found in it; we might charge the poet with being unidiomatic and ungram- matical, careless in his construction, confused in his expression, with every defect, in fine, which is apt to be discovered in the great masters of our literature by those who exhibit that enthusiasm about, or possess that confidence in, verbal criticism which results from a late study of good usage or a limited acquaintance with it. But the very worst of these critics would respect the integrity of the readings transmitted to us. Even he who possessed the necessary imbecility to condemn would lack the necessary impudence to alter. Shakes- peare would accordingly stand or fall in our estimation by our estimation of what was handed down, undeterred by the possibility that his words had been changed or perverted by the carelessness or contrivance of the men who were to speak them, or had been corrupted by the blunders of those who printed them. But, so far from having any assurance to this effect, we can be reasonably certain that to a greater or less extent his writings have suffered from both these calamities. Shakespeare has a peculiar distinction among English authors of the very first rank who have appeared since the invention of printing. He is the only one of that class who stands to us in the same 2 THE DRAMA IN SHAKESPEAllE'S TIME position as do the authors who flourished in the age of ananuscript. Tliere is the same uncertainty as to his text which exists in regard to theirs, lu his case as in theirs tlie same necessity is found for emendation and revision. In him as in them occur corrupt passages in which the hard task is laid upon human ingenuity, not to extract a meaning from them, but to put a meaning into them. Hence the subject of the text of Sliake- speare, while strictly not exciting in itself, has become tlie subject of excited controversy. For this fact there is the justification that the correctness of the readings employed is something more than a matter of importance to the special student of language. It is of even higher interest to every one who looks at the works of the poet from the side of literature pure and simple. It is accordingly natural to ask for the cause or causes which brought about this condition of things. How happened it that the works of the greatest dram- atist in our literature should seemingly have attracted so little his attention and regard that a complete col- lection of them never appeared during his lifetime? He was particular in setting forth accurately his two principal poems. Why did he fail so to show the same interest in the far superior pieces written for the stage? In the publication of several of the single plays which came out while he was living in London it is impossible to believe that he had the slightest concern. Even of the very best and most correctly printed of these, few would be found to maintain as indisputable that they had ever been subjected to his supervision. Not one of them but 3 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE contains perplexing or inexplicable words or passages -which could hardly have passed uncluiUenged had the author himself seen his work through the press. The inquiry is therefore inevitable, How came these things to be so ? What caused the text of Shakespeare to fall into the corrupt condition in which it has come down to us ? Before such questions can be answered, we must understand the relations in which the dramatic literature of the Elizabethan age stood to the life of the times. We must further understand the sentiments which the playwrights of that day entertained about their own productions. Then only can we comprehend the nature of the feelings which were affecting them all. Then it will be seen that much which the superficial view is disposed to regard as peculiar to Shakespeare was in reality common; much that seems strange in his attitude towards his own dramatic works will be found to be the attitude of nearly every one of his contemporaries. There is first the general view of the situation which has to be taken into consideration. Nothing is more noticeable in every literary epoch, especially in every great creative epoch, than the fact that one kind of production takes precedence of all in general interest. It is not that this is the exclusive way in which intellect- ual activity manifests itself; it is simply the preferred way. Nor is it that this kind is necessarily regarded as the highest in character. It is merely the one which for the mass of men possesses the greatest attraction. To it, therefore, and to its cultivation the minds of those who are anxious for purely hterary distinction are almost 4 THE DRAMA IN SHAKESPEARE'S TIME certain to be directed. An illustration or two taken from our own literature will make this point perfectly clear. In the reign of Queen Anne and the fii\st Georges every one wrote short essays, which came out regularly under some particular title, either independently, or as contributions to the columns of established newspa- pers. All of us are familiar — at least in theory — with the writings in this form of Steele, Addison, Swift, Dr. Johnson, and in fact with the somewhat depressing collection of fifty volumes, more or less, which go under the general name of the British Essayists. Still, very few have any conception of the immense amount of literature of this sort, often famous, or at least notorious, in its day, which has practically passed away from the memory of all men and from the sight of most. There are thousands of these essays preserved in scores of volumes which, if to be seen at all, are met with only on the shelves of great libraries. Many of them have never been reprinted from the columns of the daily or weekly journals in which thej'' made their appearance. Nor is the fate which has overtaken these writings altogether due to the fact that they were inferior pro- ductions or the productions of inferior men. On the contrary, the authors of these forgotten pieces have in some instances occupied a high position. One example will suffice. How many students even of eighteenth- century literature are familiar with the essays of Field- ing which appeared in ' The Champion,' in ' The True Patriot,' in ' The Jacobite Journal,' and in ' The Covent Garden Journal'? Many of them abounded in the 6 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE keenest wit and satire. Yet few even of the highly educated know anything about them. To most men they are something more than unheard of, — they are inaccessible if heard of. The very fullest editions of Fielding's works contain but a selection of them, — a selection, too, not always made with the best of judgment. It is needless, however, to go so far back as the eighteenth century to find a striking proof of the truth of the general assertion. In our own time there are two ways in which literary activity is inclined to manifest itself. These are the novel and the newspaper. There is hardly a young person, in whom the passion for purely literary distinction exists, who does not at the present time either write or contemplate writing a novel. The tendency is so strong that men entirely unfitted for it, or who have achieved reputation in other fields of labor, are drawn into it almost involuntarily. In fact the novel has been largely converted, or some would choose to say perverted, from its original intent. If in our time one wishes to propagate new views in politics or religion, to attack existing abuses, to advance fresh theories upon any subject, a natural or at least a most effective method of giving currency to his opinions is through the medium of fictitious narrative. The newspaper is with us even a more universal attraction, if not so potent in individual cases. Every one writes to some extent for it, though every one's writings do not always appear. Still the immense influence wielded by the periodical press makes the profession, in spite of the hard work and wretched pay which often attend it, more an object 6 ' THE DRAMA IN SHAKESPEARE'S TIME of attraction to young men and to men who are anxious to impress their opinions upon the minds of their contemporaries. What the essay was to the men of the eighteenth cen- tury, what the novel and the newspaper are to the men of our day, the drama was to the age of Elizabeth and James. It was the readiest way to achieve literary popularity. It was the most effective engine for influ- encing the community in days when none of the modern agencies for this purpose existed. It was all the more effective because, like the modern novel, its professed aim was not to instruct, but to delight. As a natural consequence the profession of playwright, though by no means highest in public estimation, was nevertheless the one which appealed most powerfully to all aspirants for intellectual distinction. Everybody wrote, or tried to write, for the stage. It made no difference whether men were educated for law or for divinity or for medi- cine ; provided they had an ambition to achieve for them- selves a name in contemporary literature, their exertions in two cases out of three were sure to be turned towards that one form of literary activity which conferred in the same breath popularity and power. So wide-embracing and far-reaching was the sweep of the dramatic mael- strom that it drew into its vortex future occupants of pulpits who were sometimes later to preach against the very profession they had practised. It attracted mem- bers of the nobility who ran counter to the sentiment prevailing in the class to which they belonged, that writing for the stage was something not consonant with the dignity of their order. " The Earl of Derby," said, 7 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE as if slightingly, a letter-writer in 1598, " is busy pen- ning comedies for the common players." ^ In consequence of this wide-spread interest the pro- duction of plays was enormous. But no enormous number has been preserved. The plays now extant, excluding masques and pageants, are well under seven hundred. Until of late it has been the universally ac- cepted doctrine that the immense majority of the pieces then brought out have perished. In the general denial which has gone on during the last half-century of every- thing which previously no one presumed even to doubt, it would have been strange if this particular belief had not also been made the subject of attack. We have accordingly been told that nearly everything of a dra- matic character which the past produced has been trans- mitted to the present. If it has not come down under its own name, it exists disguised under some other. This would be a most cheering view to take, could the facts be made to accommodate themselves to it. The difficulties in the way, the recital of a few instances out of many will serve to indicate. Thomas Heywood, in the address to the reader pre- fixed to his play of ' The English Traveller,' published in 1633, speaks of that tragi-comedy as one "reserved amongst two hundred and twenty," in which he had had " the entire hand or at least a main finger." He was at that time in the full vigor of his powers. As the date given is nine years before the closing of the theaters, there is little doubt that this number would be swelled 1 State Papers, Domestic Series, 1598-lCOl, p. 227. Letter of George Fenner to Humphrey GaUelli. 8 THE DRAMA IN SHAKESPEARE'S TIME considerably if we could add to it the dramatic pieces ■which he produced during the intervening period. But whatever was the exact amount of liis enormous produc- tion, all of it which has survived the wreck which has overtaken the literature of the stage are just twenty-four plays. The accounts contained in the so-called ' Diary ' of the stage-manager, Philip Henslowe, lead to the same conclusion. Take the case of Dekker. From this work we know that from the beginning of 1598 to the end of 1602, that dramatist produced ten entire plays of his own, and in conjunction with others wrote at least thirty, besides making additions to and alterations in nearly a half-dozen more. Thus during the space of somewhat less than four years he was concerned to a greater or less extent in the production of full forty plays. In truth all the evidence which has come down leads directly to the conclusion that the vast majority of the plays produced during the Elizabethan period have per- ished. In 1598 Francis Meres, in his literary drag-net called Palladis Tamia, tells us that both Henry Chettle and Richard Hathway were then reckoned as among the best writers for comedy, and Ben Jonson one of the best for tragedy. The prevalence of such a view implies that there had been by that time a respectable body of pro- duction by the three men in these two departments of the drama. Yet not a single comedy of either Chettle or Hathway, written before 1598, is certainly extant, nor a single tragedy of Ben Jonson. Between Febru- ary 15, 1592, and October 5, 1697, Henslowe records the performance of about one hundred and twenty new pieces. It is an understatement to say that above two- 9 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE thiixis of these have disappeared. When we come to individual writers the facts are even more impressive. Between the latter part of 1597 and the middle of March, 1603, Henslowe gives the title of thirteen plays which Chettle wrote wholly, and of thirty-six in whose composition or revision he had a part. Of the thirteen, only a corrupt copy of one has been preserved, or at least has been printed. Of the thirty-six, but four have sur- vived. Hathway's case is even worse. Sixteen plays in which he had a hand are mentioned. Not a single one is extant. Many similar illustrations from various quarters could be furnished. An altogether wrong esti- mate of the aggregate would indeed be got by adding together the works of different writers : for in that case the same piece might be reckoned several times. But even with this modification the facts suffice to establish the truth of the common belief. There has already been occasion to refer to the work which goes under the name of ' Henslowe 's Diary.' "Well known as it is to all students of the Elizabethan drama, it is so little known to the rest of the world that there is ample reason for a particular description of it here. This is all the more desirable because its contents sup- ply, to him who has eyes to see, a vivid picture of the dramatic situation as it is found in the closing years of the reign of Elizabeth. For the information it furnishes of the practices then prevalent and of the sentiments then prevailing, it has no rival in records of any sort which have come down from that period. Of Henslowe himself it is sufficient to say that he was a man engaged in various occupations who became largely interested in 10 THE DRAMA IN SHAKESPEARE'S TIME the management and construction of theaters. He was doubtless led to take an increasinc: share in these enter- prises by the connection formed with his family by the celebrated actor Edward AUeyn, the founder of Dulwich CoUege. The name of Diary applied to the work is a mislead- ing one. It is really little else than a depository of memoranda of payments to and transactions with dra- matic writers; of receipts from performances on each night, with the name of the play ; and further of the expenditure made for stage equipments of various kinds. The continuous reading of an account-book does not contribute to hilarity, and tliis particular one combines diiSculty of decipherment with dryness of detail. Hens- lowe, while clearly a clever business man, was an illit- erate one even for his own time. Among other things he held peculiar views as to English orthography, which is peculiar enough of itself without receiving contributions from outside sources. Occasionally the names he gives to plays — such, for illustration, as " too harpes " and " the forteion tenes," — defy all attempts at the unravel- ment of their mystery. The Diary too has suffered from the injurious agencies that are always threatening works left in manuscript. Portions of it had disappeared when it was first published in full in 1845. The loss of such was made up to some extent by the interpolation of forgeries. These, until exposed, contributed to render untrustworthy what had been originally defective. Yet imperfect as is the form in which the work was originally written, and more imperfect as it is in the form in which it now exists, its apparently dreary collection of names 11 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE and dates enables us to make more definite statements in regard to the Elizabethan stage than any other source now known. Of late years, indeed, it has been quite the fashion to find fault with Henslowe's character and conduct, and as a consequence to discredit the value of the inferences which can be drawn from the testimony he furnishes. Every scrap of evidence to his disadvantage — from the nature of the case entirely one-sided — has been care- fully sifted out and set forth conspicuously. He has been described as a particularly disreputable specimen of a particularly disreputable class. According to this portrayal he was hard, grasping, and penurious. The men who wrote for him were in a condition little above that of servitude. He took advantage of their necessi- ties ; he forced them to do for him as much as possible for as little remuneration as possible. We are fairly compelled to believe, from the contrast regularly drawn between him and the occupants of a position similar to his own, that the managers of other companies — cer- tainly of the one to which Shakespeare belonged — went into the business from motives so generous and noble as strictly to deserve the name of philanthropic. No mere love of lucre stirred their hearts, no sordid desire of making money influenced their actions. They had but few authors in their employ. These they paid with liber- ality, these they treated in all ways generously. They were solicitous to get from them their very best work. Consequently they brought out comparatively few pieces. So long as we know nothing, we are at liberty to conjec- ture everything ; and it is upon lack of evidence of any 12 THE DRAMA IN SHAKESPEARE'S TIME sort that theories of this particular sort are built up. Their chief value is tlie contribution they make to our knowledge of the innocence as well as the virtue of their originators. They are based upon so lofty a conception of the nature of men in general, and of stage-managers in particular, that a certain regret must always be felt that belief in them must rest entirely upon faith, and not at all upon sight. Accordingly they may be dis- missed with a confidence equal to the confidence with which they are proposed. Henslowe, it must be confessed, was not a character fo which the slightest romantic interest attaches itself. To be engaged at various times in the various occupa- tions of dyer, pawn-broker, starch-manufacturer, dealer in real estate, stage-manager, and in all these to keep an eye fixed upon the main chance, argues a certain busi- ness versatility ; but it does not invest the man with personal attraction. Yet it is much more than doubt- ful if there be the least justification for the opprobrious terms which of late have been employed in speaking of him. There is no reason to believe that his treatment of authors was exceptional. There is no ground for as- serting that the prices he paid them were lower than those paid elsewhere. He doubtless got his plays as cheaply as he could. This is a course of conduct not peculiar to the man or his time. Some of his payments were made at the instance of the actors themselves. There is accord- ingly every reason to believe that the bargain had been effected by them originally ; that it was they who haxi agreed with the author upon the price, and that it was through them the money was transmitted. If the 13 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE account-books of other companies had been preserved, it is tolerably certain that a condition of things not essen- tially dissimilar would be exhibited. It is hardly fair to single Henslowe out for reprobation because we happen to know what he did, and are utterly ignorant of what others did. We are therefore fully justified in accepting the conclusions which can be drawn from an analysis of the information which his work supplies. Such an analysis discloses several facts of importance bearing directly upon the dramatic situation of the time. The first is that at that period plays had no run, in the modern sense of the word. This involves a good deal more than might be supposed at the first glance. The examination of Henslowe's ' Diary ' shows that there are but two instances where the same play was acted on two successive days. Furthermore, the same play was never acted Avith great frequency. An interval of several days generally took place between the performances of the most popular. When a new dramatic piece was brought out, it was in most cases not repeated for at least a week afterward. In fact, two weeks or more often elapsed be- tween the first two times of representation, and occa- sionally, even a month. In nearly a fourth of the plays recorded by Henslowe, the interval was shorter, not ex- tending beyond three or four days ; and one of them, styled ' Valteger,' produced December 4, 1596, achieved the distinction of being performed the day following. Whatever was the reason for this unusual proceeding, the receipts show that it was not due to any excessive popularity of the piece. The only other instance of the same play being performed on successive days is that of 14 THE DRAMA IN SHAKESPEARE'S TIME one entitled ' Alexander and Lodowick,' which was acted on the 11th and 12th of February, 1597. These were its second and third representations, it having been first brought out the fourteenth day of the preceding January. A fairly correct estimate of the general situation at that time may be gained, by bringing into one view the facts furnished by Henslowe's Diary in regard to the repre- sentation of three of Marlowe's plays during the years 1594, 1595, and 1596. These are : ' The Jew of Malta,' ' Doctor Faustus,' and ' Tamburlaine.' All of them had been produced some time before. But though their nov- elt}'- was gone, they continued to retain their hold upon the theater-going public. Accordingly, the frequency of their performance each year may be taken as giving, on the whole, the average number of representations likely then to be reached by a popular play. Henslowe's ac- count extends over about nine and a half months of 1591 ; a little less than nine months of 1595 ; and a little less than seven months of 1596. Presumably, the theater or theaters in which he was interested were closed during the periods of which nothing is reported. His record shows that in 1594, ' The Jew of Malta ' was acted fifteen times ; in 1595 not once, and in 1596 eight times. 'Doctor Faustus' is men- tioned as first performed during this period in 1594, on the 30th of September ; but before the end of the year it had been acted eight times. In 1595 there were seven representations of it, and in 1596, eight. 'Tamburlaine,' a play then at least seven years old, was brought out again in 1594, on the 28th of August. 15 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE Before the year closed, there had been eight perform- ances in all. In 1595, there were six representations of this piece ; though the number would have to be doubled, were we to add to it the representations of its second part, which usually took place the day fol- lowing that of the first. In 1596, it was acted seven times. The varying numbers here given pretty fairly repre- sent the varying success of the new plays produced at this period. Unfortunately, Henslowe's record of the pieces and the dates of their performance ceases on the fifth of November, 1597. It is therefore possible that the statements made about the frequency of repe- tition may not continue true as time went on. It would, in all probability, tend to become less true as we get further into the seventeenth century. Data for making any positive assertions on this point are, how- ever, exceedingly scanty. Still, it is certain that later, under exceptional circumstances, pieces had now and then what might justly be termed a run. The title- page of a comedy of Middleton's, called 'The Game at Chess,' which was first produced in 1624, repre- sents the play as having been acted nine days together at the Globe. Even then its performance was stopped by royal order. But the favor it met was due to other causes than its excellence as a work of art. It really owed its success to its political character. Both the English and Spanish courts were brought upon the stage. The Spanish ambassador was unmercifully at- tacked both on the score of his political intrigues, and of his personal deformities. But the very fact that it 16 THE DRAMA IN SHAKESPEARE'S TIME had been acted for nine successive days was at that time the very strongest sort of evidence to the reader that it had been extraordinarily successful; while the calling attention to what would now seem so small a number of performances as a proof of its success, marks very clearly the great difference in this respect between the two ages in which there has existed no restriction upon the number of theatres — the Elizabethan and our own. At this early period indeed the stage was almost the only form of general intellectual recreation. There were then no newspapers, no magazines, no novels as that term is now understood. Outside of the theater the entertainments were scanty which enabled the educated man of leisure to while away his time, or the man engrossed in business to occupy his leisure. There he would learn history ; there he would find criticism ; there he would hear comments on current events. In the Elizabethan age indeed men spent a certain portion of their time in listening to plays as they do now in reading novels or newspapers. The same variation in the matter to be heard was therefore just as important then as is now the variation in the matter to be read. Webster with some bitterness noted that people came to the theater with the same feelings which led " ignorant asses," as he called them, to ask of the stationers, not whether books were good for anything, but whether they were new.^ The companies had of course a large stock of pieces always on hand. These they brought out as often as it was thought profitable or it became necessary. Still, 1 Preface to play of ' The White Devil,' 1612. 2 17 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE in consequence of the relation in which they stood to the public, their attention was steadily directed to the production of new plays. That this would be the case we might naturally assume from what has just been said ; but the Diary of Henslowe furnishes a very striking illustration of its truth. Take for instance one period recorded — that from June 3, 1594, to May 27, 1596. In this the com- pany or companies in which Henslowe had an interest were acting much the largest proportion of the time. The intervals in which no performances took place em- braced about twenty weeks of the two years. Daring this period there were thirty-six new pieces brought out. Consequently a little more than sixteen days, includ- ing Sundays, was the average interval between the production of any two new dramas. This was probably the shortest time in Avhichthe parts could be learned by the actors and the stage properties procured and satisfacto- rily put in order. The average interval, be it remembered, not the invariable one. This was sometimes much less. For instance between the fourth and the thirtieth of December, 1596, Henslowe records the production of four new pieces, and of three between the seventh and the twenty-ninth of April, 1597. We can therefore understand that the demand for new plays at the various theatres must have been inordinately great. This in part accounts for the large number who entered upon the profession of playwriting as a liveli- hood. There were, first, the regular writers for the stage, whose position had become established, and who were not unfrequently paid as fast as they furnished copy, and 18 THE DRAMA IN SHAKESPEARE'S TIME sometimes doubtless before they had contributed a line. But besides these, pressed steadily on a continually recruited crowd of hungry aspirants, all eager to enter upon the same career. Graduates of the universities abandoned their destined professions with the hope of gaining distinction, if not support, by this means. The actors themselves, belonging to the companies, sometimes added to their legitimate business the composition of the very pieces they had a part in performing. No one needs to be told that of this body of dramatic writers Shakespeare is the great exemplar ; but there is plenty of evidence also that several successful playwrights of that time had been originally unsuccessful players. In truth, with all classes of men with whom it was not a vocation, writing for the stage was more or less an avo- cation ; just as at the present time every man of literary pursuits, no matter what his special profession, writes to a certain extent for the press, while a more limited num- ber of these, who would never think of calling them- selves novelists, devote a portion of their time to the composition of fictitious narrative. In consequence of the great demand for plays the position of a writer for the stage was one of considerable importance and even of emolument as literary productions were then paid. Ulen who were successful dramatic poets became objects of contention with the managers of rival theaters, full as much as and probably more than at the present time popular authors are with publishers. That such should be the case would be a natural infer- ence; but we have occasionally direct evidence of the fact. It is distinctly referred to as something thoroughly 19 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE established in Ben Jonson's play of ' The Alchemist,' which was brought out in 1610. In it one of the char- acters celebrates the luck in gaming which the other is destined to receive through the magic arts of the alcha- mist. To illustrate his consequent popularity he llsls the following comparison : " You shall have your ordinaries bid for him, As playhouses for a poet; " an ordinary at that period combining the characteristics of an eating-house and of a gambling-saloon. In fact a successful dramatic author of the age of Elizabeth was under full as much pressure as is the editor of a newspaper now. As it was frequently out of the power of one man to produce plays as fast as they were needed, it was not at all uncommon — in fact, it was an estabhshed custom — for the theater to have several writers working on the same production at the same time. Henslowe's ' Diary ' is full of examples of this prac- tice. There are nearly one hundred and fifty plays of which he records the payments made to authors. Of these much fewer than one half are the work of a single person. Two or three writers are usually engaged upon the same production, and the number at times rises to four, five, and even six. For instance, in June, 1600, payments were made to Munday, Drayton, Hathway, Dekker, Chettle, and Day for their work upon a play styled 'Fair Constance of Rome.' In the case of another play, entitled 'Caesar's Fall,' — the composition of which belongs to May, 1600, — Henslowe leaves us to imagine, if we choose, an indefinitely large number of authors. 20 THE DRAMA IN SHAKESPEARE'S TIME He records the payment of a certain sum to Munday, Drayton, Webster, Middleton, and then, as if tired of fur- ther enumeration, lumps any other composer or composers under the general title of " the rest." This was no un- common proceeding on his part. Nothing exceptional in his management led him to record details such as these. It was clearly the general practice. Certainly a very large proportion of the plays of that period which have come down to modern times are the work of two or more hands. But while this is undoubtedly true, the amount of work performed by individual writers is something enormous, if we look at the matter from the modern point of view. Thomas Heywood has already been men- tioned as having asserted in 1633 that he had written at that time all or most of two hundred and twenty plays. It is to be borne in mind that dramatic composi- tion was but one form of his many-sided literary activity, which swept through the whole range of prose and verse. Heywood, it must be added, is usually spoken of as being especially prolific. That he was a prolific author, one of the most so of his age, there is no ques- tion. Still, the belief that he was exceptionally so in the matter of play-writing seems to rest mainly upon this incidental and accidental statement of the number of pieces in which up to the year mentioned he had had the entire or main hand. The examples previously given of the number in which Chettle and Dekker had been concerned during a very limited period, to say nothing of others that could be cited, show that his rate, if not his amount of production, was by no means unexampled. 21 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE Excessive production necessarily implies haste in com- position. The latter was characteristic of the period. Lyly portrayed the practice of the dramatists in choice euphuistio phrase. " Our travails," said he, " are like the hare's, who at one time bringeth forth, nourisheth and engendereth again ; or hke the brood of Trochilus whose eggs in the same moment they are laid bear birds." ^ There were doubtless some who either from choice or necessity wrote deliberately. But to this slowness there attached, in the minds of many if not of most, a certain discredit. Of all the dramatists of the Elizabethan age Ben Jonson seems the only one who consistently spent any amount of time and toil upon the composition of his works. The constant references made by his con- temporaries and immediate successors to the care he be- stowed upon his writings show that this was almost a distinctive peculiarity. By his rivals and enemies he was not unfrequently taunted with his slowness of pro- duction. We know from the Induction to his comedy of ' The Poetaster ' that he was engaged for fifteen weeks in the composition of that piece, which was mainly an attack upon two brother dramatists whom he represented in person upon the stage. In the reply which was made he was twitted with the length of time it had taken him to lay this cockatrice's egg before cackling. From the modern point of view fifteen weeks would certainly not be looked upon as a specially long time for the production of a well-wrought dramatic work. Yet Jonson himself, in spite of the contempt he must have felt for the frequently too fatal facility of his con- 1 Prologue to ' Campaspe,' 22 THE DRAMA IN SHAKESPEARE'S TIME temporaries, could not free himself altogether from the influence of the sentiment prevailing in his day. In the prologue to ' Volpone,' brought out in 1605, he referred to the fact that envious criticism twitted him with spending about a year in the composition of a play. Of the piece in question, one of his very best efforts, he said, in reply, that it had not been thought of two months before, that it had been written in five weeks, and that in it he had had the help of no coadjutor. Webster, too, showed something of the same sensitiveness on this same point. " To those who report," he said in his pref- ace to ' The White Devil,' " I was a long time in finish- ing this tragedy, I confess I do not write with a goose- quill winged with two feathers." Rapidity of production was, therefore, so far from being uncommon or remarkable during the Elizabethan period that it was strictly a necessity of the situation. Men of that day wrote against time very much as a modern edi- tor does now who has to furnish a certain amount of copy at a specified hour. A particular play was to be brought out on a particular date. It was furnished to the actors as fast as it could be written. Such a course of proceeding naturally left little time or opportunity for revision. This was something that in any proper sense of the word plays could not receive unless they proved so popular as to be performed frequently. In such a case they often passed in all probability through what may be called several editions, in which alterations, im- portant and unimportant, would to some extent be made. But the general rule was that plays were written hur- riedly. We all know the statement of the editors of the 23 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE first folio of Slial^espeare's dramatic works in regard to his swiftness of production. " His mind and hand went together," say they, " and what he thought, he uttered with such rapidity that we have scarce received from him a blot in his papers." This commendation met the cen- sure of Ben Jonson, who spoke of it as praise given to the poet for the particular in which he was most at fault. When the players mentioned it to the honor of Shakespeare that in his writing, whatsoever he penned he never blotted out a line, "my answer hath been," said he, " Would he had blotted out a thousand ! " Whatever we may think of the abstract justice of Jonson's criticism, it is clear from the facts already stated that in this respect Shakespeare did not differ much, if at all, from the vast majority of contemporary dramatic authors. In truth, what is essentially the same statement is made about Fletcher by Humphrey Mosely, the publisher of the Beaumont and Fletcher folio of 1647. " Whatever I have seen of Mr. Fletcher's own hand," he wrote, " is free from interlining ; and his friends affirm he never writ any one thing twice. It seems he had that rare felicity to prepare and perfect all first in his own brain ; to shape and attire his notions, to add or lop off, before he committed one word to writ- ing, and never touched pen till all was to stand as firm and immutable as if engraven in brass or marble." But this characteristic, so far from being rare, was the rule and not the exception, though the resulting so-called fehcity was often a long way from being felicitous. The work which the playwright engaged to produce was usually furnished at the most rapid possible rate. Once 24 THE DRAMA IN SHAKESPEARE'S TIME paid for, the author did not in general trouble himself any further about the fate of his compositions. Those productions which we now look upon as the glory of English literature were then often regarded as being pos- sessed of nothing more than an ephemeral interest. This statement will not apply to everything and every one ; but it is a fair representation of the view commonly held. 25 CHAPTER II ATTITUDE TOWAEDS PLAYS OP THE PLAYWRIGHTS The facts given in the preceding chapter fairly comj^iel the belief that the fertility of the Elizabethan age in the production of stage plays was as remarkable as is our own in the production of novels. Of a large proportion of these pieces it is mainly owing to accident that the titles have been preserved. The number of them of which not even so much as the name has come down, we can guess at, but we can never get beyond a guess. Most records have disappeared entirely; those which have been saved are imperfect as well as scanty. Nor can we satisfactorily free ourselves from the con- viction that destruction has taken place on a grand scale by seeking refuge in the boundless possibilities of what may have been; by persuading ourselves that some play which has survived is the exact representa- tive or later form of some other play of which every- thing has vanished but the title. All such assumptions, where evidence is wanting, are Avorthless. In the search for material, in which the Elizabethan dramatists ran- sacked ancient and modern history, early legend, and later romance, the field of contemporary fact as well as of fiction, it was inevitable that at times they should strike, intentionally or unintentionally, not merely upon 26 ATTITUDE OF THE PLAYWRIGHTS subjects near allied, but even upon the very same subjects. Henslowe's Diary shows us that ' Ferrex and Porrex', the title of the first English tragedy which has been preserved, was also the title of one by Haughton which has disappeared. It further informs us that the ' Troilus and Cressida' of Shakespeare had been preceded in 1699 by a piece with the same name written by Dekker and Chettle, of which not a vestige remains. A like statement can be made as to Thomas Nobbes' tragedy of ' Hannibal and Scipio, ' published in 1637. Early in 1601 Henslowe had brought out a play with that title, written by Hath way and Rankins. It is probable indeed that nearly all the very best pieces then produced have come down to us. It is permissible, however, to feel regret for the loss of some. Among the more than fifty manuscript plays ^ which fell a sacrifice to the zeal of Warburton's cook in the mak- ing of pies, are about a dozen of Massinger's. Of these, two have since been printed, — one, to be sure, a frag- ment, — four are pretty surely lost, and the rest prob- ably so ; though unlimited conjectui'e strives to discern them as existing possibly under some other names. But besides them, there perished in this ignominious way four ascribed to Ford, two to Chapman, one each to Greene, to Cyril Tourneur, to Middleton, to Dekker, to Marlowe and Day conjointly, and various ones written by authors eitlier less known or utterly unknown. Even three which thus ignobly disappeared were attributed to Shakespeare. We need not fear that English litera- 1 See the list in the 'Gentleman's Magazine,' vol. Ixxxv. pp. 217-222, of part ii., September, 1815 ; also p. 424. 27 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE tm-e has suffered any severe loss by the destruction of these last. Still one cannot well repress a feeling of curiosity as to the precise nature of the pieces which ©ven the idlest conjecture of the past deemed itself warranted in imputing to the great dramatist, or inten- tional fraud included among his works. It is no difficult matter to discover the reason which led to the extensive production of plays. But the agencies which brought about their extensive disappear- ance do not he so distinctly on the surface. If this sort of literary creation was so popular why is it that so comparatively httle of it has been preserved ? This is a question which confronts the student of the period every time the contrast presents itself between the great number of plays which we know the individual drama- tist to have written and the few of his which have come down. Fortunately for us it has been answered by one of the Elizabethans themselves. Mention has already been made of the play of ' The Enghsh Trav- eller.' In the address to the reader which constitutes its preface, Heywood, in remarkable but never suffi- ciently remarked words, reveals the principal agencies which swept out of existence so large a proportion of the pieces then written for the stage. He is explaining why so few of the two hundred and twenty in which he had been concerned had been printed. " True it is," he wrote, " that my plays are not exposed to the world in volumes, to bear the titles of Works (as others). One reason is that many of them by shifting and changing of companies have been negligently lost ; others of them are still retained in the hands of some actors who think 28 ATTITUDE OF THE PLAYWRIGHTS, it against their peculiar profit to have them come in print ; and a third that it was never any great ambition in me in this Icind to be voluminously read." In the passage just given we have succinctly stated the three causes which led to the destruction which overtook the dramatic literature of the Elizabethan period. The first, due to carelessness, belongs to the class of fatahties to which manuscript is liable at all times and under all conditions. Its operations have necessarily not been confined to the age in which Heywood flourished. But the second reason was pecu- liar to the period. This was the unwillingness of com- panies to have plays printed which they were in the habit of actiag. The existence of this feeling might have fairly been inferred from the sudden cessation which took place after 1600 of the previously rapid publication of Shakespeare's produetioiis. In that one year appeared six of his plays. After that date but five additional pieces came out during his lifetime ; and of these five, one was 'Pericles,' and another a mangled and imperfect copy of ' The Merry Wives of Windsor.' It is a natural if not necessary supposition that the com- pany which claimed his pieces as their own property took steps to prevent proceedings which, as they knew or fancied, would lower for their purposes their pecu- niary value. There is more direct testimony. Disregarding two plays of Shakespeare which were early entered for publication but were never published until 1623, the circumstances connected witl,i the appearance of ' Troi- lus and Cressida ' supply what may be deemed convinc- 29 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE ing evidence upon this very point. Tliat piece was entered in February, 1603, on the registers of the Stationers' Company by James Roberts. But a signifi- cant qualification was added. It was to be printed by him "when he hath gotten sufficient authority for it." Apparently this sufficient authority was never secured. At any rate the work was not brought out until 1609 and then it came from another house. Most remarkable is the pubhsher's preface to one of his two quartos of that year, both for the testimony it bore to the lofty estimate in which Shakespeare's productions were then held and for the prophecj'', now essentially fulfilled, that when he was gone and his plays were out of sale, there would be a scramble for them so great that it would necessitate for their procurement the setting up of an English Inquisition. More significant for us in the matter under consideration are the congratulations expressed for the escape into print of this particular play and the charge, by implication, that had it been left to "the grand possessors' wills" men should have prayed for the chance of reading his pieces instead of being prayed-for to buy them. Henslowe's Diary further contributes apparent proof of the opposition manifested by the com- panies to publication. Under date of March 19, 1600, there is a record of forty shillings to tlie printer to stay the printing of ' Patient Grissel.' In truth, it is evident that the publication of a play by the author without the consent of the actors was looked upon by many as an immoral act, if indeed it could not be deemed an illegal one. Heywood is the dramatic writer of that period who in questions bearing 30 ATTITUDE OF THE PLAYWRIGHTS upon the tlieatrical situation gives us the fullest infor- mation as to the feelings and practices then prevalent. His ' Rape of Lucrece ' first appeared in print in 1609. In the address to the reader prefixed to that tragedy he censured those who liad, to employ his own words, " used a double sale of their labors, first to the stage and after to the press." He made it distinctly clear that such as adopted that course subjected themselves by the very act to the imputation of dishonesty. For him- self, Heywood denied that he had ever been guilty of what he seemed to consider a sort of double-dealing in every sense of the term. He had always been faithful to the stage, he asserted, and took care to announce that the particular play, thus prefaced, came out by consent. The position taken by him may have repre- sented a general feeling, but it could hardly have been a universal one. It was pretty certainly that which pre- vailed among the actors ; but among the authors there must have been some, if not many, who dissented from it both in word and act. It is plain that the opposition of the theatrical com- panies to the publication of the pieces they acted was an important agency in bringing about the destruc- tion of plays. Still, in the last analysis the main cause that produced this result was the indifference of authors themselves to the fate of what they wrote. The third reason given by Heywood in the passage cited above, that it was never any great ambition in him in this kind to be voluminously read, furnishes a striking picture of the attitude of the men of that age towards the plays they produced. Such pieces were written simply to be 31 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE acted. With that all reason for the perpetuation of their existence ended. He who felt in that way was not likely to be solicitous about the future of what had already served fully the purpose for which it was created. Pieces written on the spur of the moment, and gen- erally to supply the necessities of the moment, did not seem to their authors deserving of any special care for their preservation. The feeling showed itself even when there was a disposition to deny the justice of the contemptuous opinion entertained of productions of this nature. In the prologue to 'All Fools,' published in 1605, Chapman glanced sarcastically at the wits who, professedly aiming at higher objects, scorned to com- pose plays. Yet in the dedication of this very comedy to Sir Thomas Walsingham he says himself that he is most loath to pass the sight of his friend " with any such light marks of vanity." It is plain that Webster had, as there was reason to have, a good opinion of his tragedy of 'The White Devil.' Yet for publishing it he half apologized by saying that he claimed for him- self merely the liberty which others before him had taken. " Not that I affect praise for it," he continued. He further conformed to a general sentiment, in which he did not at heart share, by applying to works of the kind he was producing the words of Martial, Nos haeo novimus esse nihil. The significance of such declarations as the foregoing cannot be mistaken. No better evidence can well be offered as to the little regard with which the most pop- ular authors of the time looked upon their own dramatic productions. They are precisely of the kind which the 32 ATTITUDE OF THE PLAYWRIGHTS editor of a newspaper at the present day might make, when contrasting his regular daily articles, which had served their immediate purpose and to which he would attach no further importance, with some other work of his of an entirely different character in which he had embodied the results of earnest thought and ripened study. This feeUng will serve to explain, at least in part, why so many of the stage plays printed came out anonymously, especially during the earlier periods. Their writers took little interest in them and felt no pride in acknowledging them. Undoubtedly such sen- timents gradually tended to disappear with the fuller recognition that both writers and readers came to have of the value of this sort of literature. For the change of opinion Ben Jonson, it is safe to assert, was largely responsible. He had never shared in the depreciatory estimate which was taken by many of stage plays. As his reputation and authority increased, a wider cur- rency was given and greater importance attached to his views. It is certainly significant that the four earliest quartos of Shakespeare — the five earliest, if we count ' Titus Andronicus ' — were not published with his name. After the appearance of this on ' Love's Labor 's Lost,' in 1598, it was thenceforth generally attached to the pieces he wrote and also to some he did not write ; for by that time it had attained and henceforth retained a com- mercial value which publishers did not fail to recognize. The prevalence of tljis comparatively disparaging opinion entertained of their productions by playwrights themselves is of course true only in a general sense. To it there were inevitably exceptions. Against the 3 33 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE universality of indifference to the fate of their pieces either the vanity or the just self-appreciation of in- dividual writers could be trusted to militate, as well as the interest taken by the public in particular plays. There are always authors to whom even the meanest of their productions will seem worthy of preservation. Such a feeling would naturally be intensified in the case of worlis which not only they themselves regarded as good, but were so regarded by those for whose opinion they had respect. Both these agencies doubtless con- tributed to the publication of a number of dramas dur- ing the Elizabethan period. The request of friends, later often a fictitious pretext, was a very genuine motive for such action in the early part of the seven- teenth century. Chapman in the dedication of his comedy of ' The Widow's Tears,' which appeared in 1612, said, and unquestionably said truly, that many desired to see it printed. This particular reason for publication which he chanced to avow was certainly one of the unavowed reasons that led others to follow the same course. There was indeed a constant demand on the part of the public for the privilege of reading the plays which they had seen acted, or which they had heard spoken of with praise by those who had seen them acted. If the writer was unwilling or unable to re- spond to this desire, publishers could be found who undertook to gratify it by any means that lay in their power. This was what led then to the frequent piracy of popular dramatic productions. Every effort, legiti- mate or illegitimate, was put forth to secure them for 34 ATTITUDE OF THE PLAYWRIGHTS the press. They were taken down in the imperfect shorthand of the period. They were set forth to sale so full of blunders and absurd readings that the author himself was often ashamed to acknowledge them as his own. Fears of the mutilation his plays would thus undergo must have constantly haunted the heart of every dramatist who was honestly solicitous for his own reputation. It sometimes urged him to print what otherwise would have been left undisturbed in manu- script. Chapman, in the dedication of his comedy of 'All Fools,' spoke of it as "the least allowed birth of my shaken brain." Yet he caused it to be brought out " Lest by others' stealth it be impressed, Without my passport, patched by others' wit." If the fear of what might be done led the author at times to publish his plays, the same result would occa- sionally be brought about by his resentment of what had been done. He would find saddled upon him a play of his own, to be sure, but in so corrupt a con- dition that as a matter of self-defence he felt obliged to bring out a corrected copy. There is satisfactory evidence as to the indignation felt by the writers of that time at these pirated publications, against which they apparently had no remedy. Heywood conm)ented upon an outrage of this kind in a prologue, spoken at the last revival before its publication in 1605, of an early dramatic production of his entitled, ' If you Know not Me, you Know Nobody.' He severely censured the play with this name that was then in circulation. He spoke of it as " the most corrupted copy now imprinted, which was published \yithout his consent." Its exist- 35 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE ence was due, lie tells us, to the success the piece met with on its original representation. This was so great " that some by stenography drew The plot, put it in print, scarce one word true : And in that lameness it hath limpt so long, The author now to vindicate that wrong Hath took the pains upright upon its feet To teach it walk." Eeasons of a similar sort he gave for printing 'The Rape of Lucrece.' "Some of my plays," he wrote, " have, unknown to me, and without any of my direc- tion, accidentally come into the printer's hands, and therefore so corrupt and mangled (copied only by the ear) that I have been as unable to know them as ashamed to challenge them." This particular one he was more willing, in consequence, to bring out in its proper garb, inasmuch as " the rest have been so wronged in being pubhshed in such savage and ragged ornaments." It is not impossible, indeed, that the pirated ' Romeo and Juliet ' of 1597 led the author to consent to the publication of the 1599 quarto of the same tragedy. But after all, publication of plays was the exception and not the rule. The combined effects of the various agencies mentioned brought to the press only a very limited number of the many produced. However eager might be the demand for their perusal in special cases, it is clear that both in the eyes of readers, and even of their own composers, dramatic productions were not regarded as being of much intrinsic value. They ex- isted for no higher object than the entertainment of 36 ATTITUDE OF THE PLAYWRIGHTS the passing moment. This view, largely held, as we have seen, by the playwrights themselves, was one which met the full concurrence of the critical public. The pieces when printed were read with eagerness ; but they were not often read with the respect given to other and often far feebler works. There is, indeed, a curious parallel between the attitude taken towards the drama by the men of the latter years of the sixteenth century and the beginning of the seventeenth, and the attitude taken towards the novel by the men of the latter part of the eighteenth century and the beginning of the nine- teenth. Readers of ' Northanger Abbey ' will remember how bitterly Miss Austen resented the disparagement of works of fiction which it was then the fashion to enter- tain and express. There was ample reason for the protest she made. But little of the uncompromising spirit shown by Miss Austen in the defence of the novel was displayed by the dramatists of the Elizabethan age when speaking in behalf of their own productions. In the dedications of the plays they published there is not unfrequently an apologetic tone, as if it were rather a presumption on the part of the author to offer to his patron a work in itself of so slight value and in general so slightly re- garded. They were wont to hold up the practice of persons in stations of authority as proof that it was not deemed beneath the dignity of the high-born to bestow their countenance upon what was looked upon by large numbers as something essentially frivolous. Ancient rulers were sometimes summoned to enforce this view ; but the example of the Italian princes was the one most 37 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE commonly cited. Their willingness to receive into favor pieces of this character was the bulwark behind which the playwright was ordinarily disposed to shield himself. That he felt the need of some such protection is mani- fest. Chapman's dedication of his comedy of ' The Widow's Tears ' exhibits ia the most marked manner the hesitating attitude assumed by authors themselves in regard to pieces written for the stage. " Other coun- trymen," he wrote, "have thought the like worthy of dukes' and princes' acceptations. Injusti Sdegnii, II Pentamento Amorose, Calisthe, Pastor Fido, and so forth (all being but plays), were all dedicate to princes of Italy." There is a further distinct reference to the low estimation in which dramatic productions were gen- erally held in the reflection with which Chapman went on to comfort himself. This was to the effect that the free judgment of his patron "weighs nothing by the name or form or any vain estimation of the vulgar ; but will accept acceptable matter as well in plays as in many less materials masking in more serious titles." Sentiments of a similar nature continued to find ex- pression down almost to the closing of the theaters. They can be seen, for illustration, in the dedications prefixed respectively to Massinger's 'Duke of Milan,' printed in 1623, and in his 'New Way to Pay Old Debts,' printed in 1632; in those prefixed to Hey wood's ' English Traveller,' and in his ' Love's Mistress,' belong- ing respectively to 1633 and 1636 ; and in the dedica- tion of Ford's ' Fancies Chaste and Noble,' published in 1638. The general tone pervading these later dedica- tions, when they touched upon this point, is indicated by 38 ATTITUDE OF THE PLAYWRIGHTS that accompanying Dekker's tragi-comedy of 'Match Me in London.' This was brought out in 1631. His patron, he says, is also a chorister in the choir of the muses. "Nor is it any over-daring in me," he added, "to put a play-book into your hands being a courtier. Roman poets did so to their emperors, the Spanish now to their grandees, the Italians to their illustrissiraos, and our own nation to the great ones." Upon modern ears tire deprecatory state of mind thus indicated will make the greatest impression in the dedication of the Shake- speare folio of 1623 to the earls of Pembroke and of Montgomer3^ The editors humbly admitted that when they took into consideration the high positions held by their patrons, they could not but know that their dignity was too great to descend to the reading of such trifles. This apologetic attitude, this implied disparagement of dramatic literature, was by no means confined to the dedications prefixed to plays. Were such the case, it might be pleaded that these were purely conventional utterances. Though they really meant a good deal, a plausible argument could be made that they meant noth- ing. But no such explanation will serve for similar opinions about these productions which at times found independent expression. In Heywood's address to the reader which has been quoted, it is noticeable that he makes a somewhat disparaging reference to the fact that the plays of others had been collected and brought out in volumes.! It is not the only place where he comments upon this procedure. In 1631, two years before the appearance of 'The Enghsh Traveller,' he published his 1 See page 28. 39 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 'Fair Maid of the West.' In the preface he expressed his sentiments in regard to the collections of dramatic pro- ductions which had then come out. " Virtuous reader," he remarks, "my plays have not been exposed to the public view of the world in numerous sheets and a large volume, but singly, as thou seest, with great modesty and small noise." It is clear that the epithet of " virtu- ous," which he bestowed upon his reader. Hey wood in his secret heart felt belonged strictly to himself. He was contemplating with satisfaction and approval his own conduct. One gets from his words the impression that in his eyes it partook somewhat of presumption to publish a play at all. Still, it is implied that if a man contented himself with bringing out a single one, and did not go so far as to stuff a volume with a number of them, he could be pardoned for the offence. In such a case it was not a serious trespass ; it was only a pecca- dillo. There were but two authors against whom the censure here indicated could have been levelled. These were Shakespeare and Ben Jonson. The only collections that had yet appeared were of their works. But there was a sneer conveyed in Heywood's further remark that his plays did not bear the title of ' Works.' This can refer but to one man. There may have been some and even many who felt then just as did Ben Jon- son. But of all the dramatic writers of that time, if we draw our inferences merely from words and acts, he is the only one who seems to have had a full conception of the dignity of his profession, or any solicitude about the future of his plays. In his eyes the writings of the poets were, to use his own language, " the fountains and 40 ATTITUDE OF THE PLAYWRIGHTS first springs of wisdom." In season and out of season, he lost no opportunity to assert their claims to the high- est recognition. In none of his dedications can be found the least trace of the feeling that the gift was unworthy the acceptance of any friend or patron whatever. In accordance with this conviction the first collected edi- tion of his writings, consisting mainly of dramas, bore the title of ' Works.' It appeared in 1616. No claim so audacious for productions of this character had ever been put forth before. It confounded both friends and ene- mies. For a long time his conduct had no imitators ; at least, whatever imitation there was came from publishers and not from authors. The title-page of the folio of 1623 bears simply the words ' Mr. William Shakespeare's Com- edies Histories and Tragedies,' though on one of the inner title-pages, removed from general attention, ' The Works of Shakespeare ' is put down in addition. ' Works ' was prefixed for a purpose to the Marston volume of 1633 ; but the Beaumont and Fletcher Folio of 1647 boi-e the title of ' Comedies and Tragedies ' ; that of 1679, of ' Fifty Comedies and Tragedies.' At the present time we can hardly understand the feeling which would deny the title of ' Works ' to dramas like those of Jonson, and give it without grudging to dry and commonplace treatises upon matters in which the human mind has now lost all the little interest it ever had. But it was then a very genuine and earnest feeling. Jonson was unsparingly ridiculed even by men of his own profession for calling his plays 'Works.' The wonder at the boldness of it lasted long after his death. It took indeed many years to reconcile the minds of men 41 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE to the extreme position that trifles so slight in character should receive so dignified a name. As late as 1659, Thomas Pecke, in an epigram addressed to Davenant, referred to Jonson as " That Ben, whose head deserved the Roscian bays, Was the first gave the name of works to plays." ^ In this instance the author goes on to add that the merit of the writings justified the use of such a term. But this was not, or at least had not been the general opinion. By the majority the title of ' Works ' was re- garded as a presumptuous application of the word to things which were simply designed to live their little day and then be forgotten. Jonson had defied not merely public opinion, but the opinion of the men of his own profession in collecting his plays and setting them forth in a single large volume. It is certainly an allowable suggestion, if it be not deemed a probable supposition, that it was the publica- tion by him of the folio of 1616 that led, or at least encouraged Heming and Condcll to bring out the Shakespeare folio of 1623. Jonson's action had been un- precedented. It had met with a criticism which might well have deterred imitation. But the growing influ- ence of the man who was making his way to the position of acknowledged autocrat of letters could hardly have failed to affect the course of the friends and fellows of the man who, while he had been living, had been re- garded as the supreme dramatist of his time. Still the practice never became general. The example of Jonson was but little followed in his own age ; in no instance I British Bibliographer, vol. ii. p. 312. 42 ATTITUDE OF THE PLAYWRIGHTS was it followed by a single one of the dramatists them- selves. It was his old comrades who brought out Shake- speare's plays ; it was a business enterprise that led to the only other undertaking of the sort which was at- tempted in the seventeenth century. Beaumont had been in his grave more than thirty years and Fletcher more than twenty before any volume containing their pieces appeared. Massinger was the next of the Eliza- bethans whose complete works were brought out ; but it was not till 1759 that this task was accomplished. No edition of the writings of any early Elizabethan dramatist, besides these mentioned and Lyly's, made its appearance until the nineteenth century. The facts here given, the opinions here recorded make one point perfectly clear. They demonstrate distinctly the truth of the proposition with which the discussion of the subject opened. Much which is often reckoned as peculiar to Shakespeare was common. Much which has seemed strange in his attitude towards his own works was nothing more than the attitude of practically all his contemporaries. The further and final question now arises. Did Shakespeare himself share in the esti- mate of the value of dramatic production entertained generally by the men of his time and even by the men of his own profession ? Was his conduct influenced by the feelings largely prevalent in his own class ? As this is a matter which can never be determined deci- sively, the opportunity for argument is endless, and the conclusions reached wiU be pretty sure to vary with the predispositions or prejudices with which the inquiry is begun. Nothing more will be attempted here than to 43 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE state as briefly and as fairly as possible the leading con- siderations on both sides. On the surface everything seems to indicate that Shakespeare held the view expressed by Heywood in regard to pieces written for stage representation as op- posed to that entertained by Jonson. If we judge his opinions by his conduct there would hardly seem any question at all. We might indeed go further and feel ourselves justified in maintaining that, like so many of his class, he was indifferent to the fate which might befall his plays; that he did not look upon them as serious performances, and that he had little belief in their essential greatness and little confidence in their perpetuity. We should have the further right to infer that he reckoned his two principal poems as superior to his dramatic productions, at least to his first dramatic productions. As early as 1592, we know from the pamphlet which Robert Greene wrote upon his death- bed that the theatrical companies were turning aside from other playwrights to secure the services of Shake- speare. Something therefore he must have accom- plished by that time to have made him so general an object of popular favor. Yet, in the dedication to the Earl of Southampton of his ' Venus and Adonis,' pub- lished in 1593, he declared that poem to be " the first heir of his invention." By itself the remark may be explained without implying that he was expressing a comparatively disparaging opinion of the dramatic pieces he had up to that time produced. Still, this is its natural interpretation. Furthermore it is an interpretation in full harmony 44 ATTITUDE OF THE PLAYWRIGHTS with the course of conduct he pursued, in regard to his plays. Of these, seventeen appeared in some form dur- ing his lifetime; if we include ' Pericles,' eighteen. Cer- tain of these were brought out in so imperfect and indeed so atrociously mangled a state that it is quite impossible to suppose that they were subjected to the revision of Shakespeare or for that matter to the revision of any one. Nor in the case of the best of the quartos is there any evidence that he was privy to their publica- tion. This attitude of indifference is made more strik- ing by the fact that nineteen of his dramas never saw the light till after their author's death. Consequently Shakespeare was so far from supervising the printing of more than half of his plays, that he never saw them in any printed form whatever. It cannot be maintained that he was prevented by stress of circumstances or by hurry of business from attending to their publication. He left London, it is generally believed, and took up his residence at Stratford somewhere about 1611. There he led, so far as we can discover, the life of a country gentleman. He interested himself in local affairs. He was concerned either for or against the enclosure of the common lands of Welcombe. He entertained the clergy- man at New Place and saw to it that he was furnished with a quart of sack and a quart of claret. He bought and sold property. To his material possessions he at- tended with circumspection and diligence. But as to what became of those productions which we now regard as the culminating effort of English genius, he seems not to have felt the slightest sort of anxiety or have given himself the slightest sort of trouble. It is accord- 45 THE TEXT OE SHAKESPEARE ingly manifest from the course he pursued that Shake- speare felt and consequently acted as did in general the other dramatists of his time. So much for the arguments which are adduced to sup- port this view. But there are considerations which lead to a conclusion directly opposite. It is hardly conceiva- ble, in the first place, that Shakespeare could have been unaware of his own greatness. He certainly could not have been unconscious of his superiority in that one form of literary production which, however lightly es- teemed by the critical and the learned, appealed never- theless most potently to the taste of both the educated and the uneducated multitude. Had he felt any doubt upon the subject, the general estimate which had made him as much the favorite of his own age as he has be- come the admiration of the ages which have followed, would have disabused his mind of any such notion. Furthermore, he could not have failed to observe that his dramatic production, so far as it was printed, met with as much favor in the closet as it did on the staee. There its success rivalled that of his two principal poems. The facts in this matter which bibliography records are indeed well worth consideration. The asre of Shake- speare was not one in which the English language, with what it contained and conveyed, stood high in the esti- mation of scholars. Francis Meres gives us a glimpse of the feelings of such men in the list he furnishes of the principal literatures of the world. These according to him were eight in number. It is noticeable that while Italian, French, and Spanish are specified, English 46 ATTITUDE OF THE PLAYWRIGHTS is not included. The population of the kingdom too was then far from large, nor was education widely dif- fused. There was in consequence, as contrasted witli our own times, a very limited number of persons to read anything ; of this limited class, there was then, as always, a comparatively insignificant number to read poetrjr. Yet before his death Shakespeare had seen his play of ' Richard II.,' first printed in 1597, pass through four edi- tions ; his play of ' Richard III.,' which appeared the same year, pass througli five ; and his first part of ' Henry IV.,' which came out the same year, pass also through five. Between 1000 and 1608 inclusive the pirated copy of ' Henry V.,' went through three editions. Three and pos- sibly four were also the number of impressions of ' Romeo aud Juhet' before 1616, if we reckon among them the imperfect pirated quarto of 1597. Again, if we include the copy of the first form of 'Hamlet,' printed in 160-!, that l)lay by 1611 had passed through four editions and possibly five. This continued popularity with the read- ing public exhibited no signs of abatement during Shake- speare's life. The editions which followed make it clear that it did not cease with his death. No other dramatist of that early period can show any such record. Shake- speare would have been singularly obtuse had he failed to recognize his own popularity, and singularly self- depreciatory had he been disposed to look upon it as unworthily bestowed. There is not only no evidence that he had any such disposition, but whatever evidence there is tends to in- spire the contrary belief. True it is he did not publish his own dramatic works. But that is far more likely to 47 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE have been due to the consideration he entertained for the feelings of others than to any disparaging opinion he held of the value of his dramatic productions or to indif- ference to their fate. As an actor he might naturally sympathize witli the views about publication of the men of his profession, and he would be sure to respect what they deemed their rights. So long, therefore, as his asso- ciates regarded the printing of plays as being, in Hey- wood's phrase, " against their peculiar profit," he would refrain, whatever were his own opinion, from any under- taking that would threaten the value of what they con- sidered their property. But this does not militate against the view that he contemplated the publication of his plays when with the lapse of time objections of this sort would inevitably lose all their potency. It is indeed a natural inference from the words of Heming and Condell that he purposed such action. It is indicated in the regret they express in the dedication of his works that it had not been his fate " to become the executor to his own writings." In the address to the readers they confess that it were worthy to have been wished that the author had lived to oversee his own productions, and that it was to be lamented that he had been " by death departed from that right." Such words do not prove that Shakespeare intended to bring out an edition of his plays ; but they suggest, if they do not imply, that it was a project he had entertained. Such, in brief, are the arguments on both sides. But if it were ever Shakespeare's intention to publish his works, we know too well that it was never carried out. His text therefore suffered from the same agencies which 48 ATTITUDE OF THE PLAYWRIGHTS impaired the correctness of nearly all the productions of the dramatists of that period. It was never subjected to any adequate revision, and assuredly not to its author's. It has come down to us, therefore, just as have the works written in the age of manuscript, in a condition more or less corrupt. To restore it, to bring it back to the state in which it came from the writer's hands, has been the task of centuries. The undertaking has been attended throughout with great friction; there are those who think its accomplishment, so far as it has been accom- plished, has been largely due to this friction. Certain it is that the settlement of the text of Shakespeare has given rise to bitter quarrels, in which writers of the greatest eminence and scholars of the profoundest learn- ing have taken part. To trace the various steps which have led to the breaking out of these controversies, and to record the events which marked the progress of the most famous one of them all will be the subject of the following chapters. 49 CHAPTER III DQTERBNCES OF THE EAELY TEXTS It is evident from the facts given in the preceding chapter that, vt^hatever may have been Shakespeare's in- dividual sentiments, his practice conformed to that of his contemporaries. The same agencies wliich affected the conduct of his brother dramatists and the fortunes of what they wrote operated also more or less upon him and his works. As they revised and recast previous pieces, so did he. As they entered into partnership with other writers in the composition of plays, so did he. As their productions have come down to us in varying degrees of textual excellence, or as it might sometimes seem, of textual corruption, so have his. As some of theirs have been lost, it is to be feared that some of his may have suffered the same fate. We know from Meres that a play of his called ' Love 's Labor 's Won,' had been produced before 1598. It is a title that would serve for a large majority of all the comedies which have ever been written. Conjecture finds it still existing in several of his pieces which go under other names, notably in ' All 's Well that Ends Well.' This may be so ; we can never be absolutely sure that it is so. One thing is fairly certain. Had not Heming and Con- dell performed the pious duty of collecting and printing 60 DIFFERENCES OF THE EARLY TEXTS the works of their old comrade, we are more than likely to have missed seeing some of the dramas which made their appearance in the folio of 1623 ; and included in the list of those then first published are such trage- dies as ' Julius Csesar,' ' Antony and Cleopatra,' ' Corio- lanus,' and ' Macbeth,' and such comedies as ' Twelfth Night,' ' As You Like It,' ' The Winter's Tale,' and ' The Tempest.' We can never form a correct estimate of the difficul- ties which beset the establishment of the text of Shake- speare, or discern clearly the causes which have brought about the diversities that prevail in different editions until we have mastered the conditions which from the outset have confronted and still confront him who as- sumes the ofi&ce of editor. Let us gain in the first place a full understanding of the situation. The plays which are attributed to Shakespeare in modern editions are usually thirty-seven. Besides these there have been occasionally added to the list two — - Edward III.' and ' The Two Noble Kinsmen ' — in which he is thought by some to have borne a part. But the number just given is the one ordinarily found. Of these thirty-seven, all, with the exception of ' Pericles,' appeared in this first collected edition. In it they are printed with varying degrees of accuracy. None of them indeed could be expected to show the perfect state in which a work is presumably found that has been subjected to the au- thor's own revision. StiU, some of them present a text which, comparatively speaking, may be called good. But while this is true of individual plays, it must be said of the foho of 1623 that as a whole the work is very care- 61 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE lessly printed, in an age where careful printing was a duty not often taken very seriously. Were we indeed to confine ourselves to the condition in which certain of the plays appear, it would be well within the limits of legitimate vituperation to call the proof-reading abominable. The punctuation in fact tends at times to create the impression that there was no proof-reading at all. In the exhibition made of this the disorder occasionally swells into a wild riot. Semicolons exchange places with interrogation points, and periods appear in the middle of sentences. In the case of commas especially, the lawlessness displayed by the type-setters would give exaggerated conceptions of hu- man depravity to certain men of our day who seem to look upon the particular punctuation they employ as being somehow divinely inspired. Commas turn up in the folio of 1623 in the most unexpected and surprising places. They appear to have been regarded as a general representative of all the other points ; for they not un- frequently do duty for colons, semicolons, and periods. Moreover, while they often appear in places where they have no business whatever to be, they are just as often absent from places where their presence is desirable if not essential. Still, many of the most important defects of this edi- tion cannot be laid to the score of punctuation, even though, in consequence of the way it has been done, sen- tences are sometimes run together, or on the contrary are broken up into meaningless parts. There are other characteristics which are just as bad, and some which are much worse. Of the former we have an example in the 52 DIFFERENCES OF THE EARLY TEXTS not unfrequent printing of verse as prose or of the ar- rangement of the verse in lines by which the proper measure is destroyed. Of the hitter are the defects which disturb or destroy the sense. Words show them- selves which are not known elsewhere to the speech. Again we meet with familiar words which in the place where they are found convey no meaning. In many cases it is easy to detect the blunder which caused the substitution of one term for another. Other readings present difficulties by no means easy to overcome ; and there Avill be ample opportunity given later to observe how human ingenuity has been enabled to solve several of the most perplexing of these problems. But there remain and probably always will remain instances where the right reading wiU continue unsettled. The most famous single instance is perhaps the crux in ' Timon,' where the hero says to his servant, as the words appear in the original and only authority, ■ — " Go, bid all my Friends againe/ Lucius, Luculkis, and Sempvonius Vllorxa : All." The chances are that the incomprehensible " Vllorxa " wiU furnish a subject for difference of opinion during all future time, as it has already in the past. Here, then, we encounter the first difficulty in secur- ing the ideal text. For thirty-six of the plays the folio of 1623 is a principal, if not the principal authority; for eighteen of the thirty-six it is practically the only authority. Yet it is a work which was printed with little if any editorial supervision and with no adequate proof-reading. It contains words that have never been 1 Act iii., scene 4. 63 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE known to exist, and words used in senses they have never been known to have; sentences that have the double meaning of an oracle, and sentences that convey no meaning at all. Here we have at once opened before us a wide field for conjectural emendation, into which men with the least judgment have naturally rushed with the most audacity. Indeed, while the capability of the hu- man mind to misunderstand what is plain and to inter- pret absurdly what is obscure has never been made the subject of exact scientific investigation, the most ample data for measuring and testing its powers in those direc- tions can be gathered from the various proposals which have been made in all seriousness to correct the text of ' Shakespeare. But even under the most favorable con- ditioios uniformity cannot be expected. In the case of two men of the same degree of cultivation, in whom unite fulness of knowledge and keenness of insight, dif- ferences of view depending upon the personal equation are sure to arise. There are passages where the right reading must rest upon conjecture ; and conjecture im- plies variation of text. We can have sufficient confi- dence in the contrariety of human opinion and the per- versity of human nature to feel absolute assurance that in cases of doubt the judgment of no one man will ever command the concurrence of all other men. This is the first difficulty. A text has come down to us in the collected edition which in some instances is fairly good, in others more or less corrupt. But, as if this were not enough, a new element of disturbance thrusts itself in. Fifteen of these thirty-six plays had been published separately in quarto form before the 54 DIFFERENCES OF THE EARLY TEXTS appearance of the folio of 1623. The originals out of which two more, included in that volume, had been built, had been also long in print. These plays brought out in quarto form sometunes went through several edi- tions. The text of such varied naturally, to some ex- tent, from each other; in two instances — ' Hamlet' and ' Romeo and Juliet ' — they varied widely. The differ- ences between these have therefore always to be consid- ered. But behind this there is something more impor- tant still. Between the text as seen in a quarto and that of the same play in the folio there were frequently wide discrepancies. Passages found in the one would not ap- pear in tlie other. Even entire scenes would be lacking. Between the reading contained in the same passages there would sometimes be great variations. Hence arose at once a conflict between the original authorities. Heming and Condell, as is well known, attacked these quartos in the preface to the folio of 1623. They assured the reader that he had previously been "abused with divers stolen and surreptitious copies maimed and de- formed by the frauds and stealths of injurious impostors that exposed them." This was unquestionably true in some instances. These plays, they went on to say, were now offered to the view of men " cured and perfect of their hmbs ; and all the rest absolute in numbers as he " — that is, the author — "expressed them." They fur- ther impUed, though they did not directly assert, that the text they gave was taken from the manuscript of Shake- speare himself. After reading assurances so promising, it is somewhat disheartening to contrast what they furnished with what they said they would furnish. In 55 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE spite of the impression they gave that they followed the reading of the original manuscripts, they printed several of the plays from the very quartos they denounced. In other cases the text of the quarto is as good as, if not superior to, that of the one they set forth. Hence we cannot assume that the folio represents the final reading which the author had chosen to adopt. In consequence it is not always easy to tell which in any given case is the better authority. If quartos and folios vary, the modern editions will be fairly sure to vary, one following in some instances the reading of the folio, the other that of the quarto. The discrepancies between these early authorities are susceptible of easy explanation in the situation which then prevailed. The text printed would be taken from play-house copies. Between these there would be sure to spring up differences in process of time. The copies themselves, after having been furnished to the theater, would be subjected to any alterations which the author, in conjunction with the actors, might at different times think it desirable or essential to introduce. Scenes would be lengthened ; scenes would be shortened ; scenes would be thrown out altogether. But in addi- tion the text would almost inevitably suffer from that depravation which every manuscript undergoes by the mere fact of its being a manuscript. Imperfect transcrip- tion, unintentional substitution would affect the language and often the meaning of passages. But besides these undesigned alterations changes were likely to be made in the course of time with which the author himself may have had nothing to do. Matter would be added as new 66 DIFFERENCES OF THE EARLY TEXTS circumstances arose to suggest new allusions or appeal to new emotions. Other matter would be struck out for the sake of retrenching particular scenes or for any special reason connected with the exigencies of the theater on any particular occasion. Changes once made would stand a fair chance of being always retained. Agencies like these would always threaten the integrity of the text so long as its reproduction lay exclusively in the hands of copyists. Accordingly we can see that in dealing with certain of the plays of Shakespeare we are in the same situation as when dealing with the works of an ancient author of which several manuscripts exist, agreeing in the main but often differing widely in details. We can thereby get a ghmpse of the nature of the problem which presents itself, as also of the difficulties of the task which requires us to reconstruct, out of the materials described, the genuine text. Examples either of slight or gross corruptions caused by imperfect transcription of the copy sent to the press, or by the blunder of type-setters, need not detain us here. They will be found in profusion in the course of this vol- ume. But there is a numerous class of petty discrepan- cies which demand recognition, though they deserve no extended notice. They result from the existence of two readings furnished by the original authorities, of which either makes perfectly good sense and would be accepted by all, were it not for the occurrence of the other. Out of scores and scores of instances that could be cited, take two perfectly well-known passages from ' Hamlet.' Be- fore that play appeared in the folio of 1623, it was printed singly in quarto form in 1603, in 1604, in 1605, and in 57 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 1611. In the folios a well-known speech of Hamlet reads as follows : " There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in our philosophy." But in all the quartos these same lines read : " There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy." Did Shakespeare himself wiite our or your? Which is here the correct word ? It is easy to see that this is a point upon which opinions are sure to divide. As a general rule, the mind of any particular person will be swayed, perhaps unconsciously, to prefer the form with which he has first chanced to become familiar. Take again the two lines in the speech of the ghost, which in the quarto of 1603 and the folio of 1623 appear thus : " And each particular hair to stand on end. Like quills upon the fretful porpentiiie." In the quartos of 1604, 1605, and 1611, "the fretful por- pentine" is replaced by "the fearful porpentine." The same reason for disagreement in choice applies here as in the foregoing case. It is in differences of this sort that a large proportion of the variations between editions of Shakespeare consists. They are not important. Very rarely do they affect the sense seriously. But in con- junction with the other causes specified, they present an impassable barrier to uniformity of text. So potent are they that they not only affect the action of the men of different periods, but they affect the action of the same man at different periods of his own life. Successive edi- 58 DIFFERENCES OF THE EARLY TEXTS tions of Shakespeare put forth by the same editor show frequent variations in the readings, due to change of opin- ion. So far, therefore, are we from having a text estab- hshed which will command" the assent of all men and of all time, that none has yet .been produced which com- mands the assent of any one man at different times. These are difficulties inherent in the nature of the matter to be edited. There have been and still con- tinue to be obstacles in the way of uniformity arising from difference of judgment, of knowledge, and of taste in those who set out to edit. The language of the dramatist himself has contributed and still contributes to some extent to variation of text and misunderstand- ing of meaning. As a result of the changes which go on constantly in every speech, some of Shakespeare's words and the significations of other of his words have become obsolete. Here was and is a fruitful source of misapprehension and error. Another peril threatening the right reading was the change in grammatical forms and constructions. This is a difficulty even more formi- dable to overcome, and it has not been entirely removed even at the present day. It is not strange, in the little knowledge possessed by the first editors of the historic development of English speech, that they should have deemed Shakespeare guilty of bad grammar when he was simply conforming his usage to the grammar of his own time. Their poor opinion of his qualifica- tions is not of consequence; but when the result of it causes disturbance of the text, it matters a good deal. To show how variations of reading arise from this ignorance, and how lines of linguistic investigation 59 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE converge in establishing the true one, can be brought out sharply by one notable illustration which concerns accidence. Of the three leading dialects into which the English of English literature was early divided, that of the Midland has become the standard speech. In numerous ways, however, it has been affected by the dialects of the North and of the South, with which it came into con- tact on its two sides. Especially was this true of the former. In the illustration here chosen, the dialect of the Midland, especially of the East Midland — and in this instance of the Southern also — had in the third person singular of the present tense of the verb the termination -th. On the other hand, in the dialect of the North, this person ended in -s. Hence, in one part of the country men said " he doth," in another " he does." By the end of the sixteenth century the latter termination had been so successful in encroaching upon the one which was characteristic of the Midland that it had gained a recognized position in literature. The two endings flourished side by side. Shakespeare and his contemporaries used either indifferently. But since his day, the Northern form in -s has practically supplanted the Midland form in -th, both in the collo- quial and the literary speech. The latter has been mainly kept alive, so far as it is alive, by its occur- rence in the translation of the Bible, where it is the only form employed. An altogether different story has to be told of the terminations of the plural in the same tense. In it could be included also the terminations of the second 60 DIFFERENCES OF THE EARLY TEXTS person singular, which in the North was -s and in the Midland -st. In the latter dialect the plural ending of the present was -en. This after dropping its consonant became and has since remained the standard form in lit- erature. The result had already been reached in Shake- speare's time. When the full form -era was employed, as frequently by Spenser, it was distinctly felt to be an ar- chaism. The corresponding termmations of the plural were -th in the dialect of the South and -s in the dialect of the North. Both existed in the literature of Shake- speare's time, but only on a comparatively limited scale. The Southern plural in -ih had but little recognition, though it survived in sporadic instances to a late period in the literature of the seventeenth century. The use of it by Shakespeare and his contemporaries, so far as it was used at all, was mainly confined to the words hath and doth. The northern plural in -s was, however, dis- tinctly more common. Especially was this true of col- loquial speech and of the literature which represents colloquial speech. Our lack of familiarity with the extent of its employ- ment is due to the fact that in modern editions of our earlier writers it has been reformed, wherever possible, out of the text, and replaced by the present grammatical terminations. In the Elizabethan period the ending may be said to have been making a struggle for establishment and general acceptance. But the fight was a losing one. No such good fortune attended it as befell its correspond- ing dialectic third person singular. Though met with a fair degree of frequency it is pretty certain that there were writers who were averse to employing it. Conse- 61 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE quently it tended to be more and more disused as time went on. By the end of the first quarter of the seven- teenth century it had largely disappeared as a recognized form. In Shakespeare's plays, as found in the first folio, it occurs about two hundred times. To make up this number are not included the frequent cases in which two nouns joined by a copulative conjunction appear as the subject of a verb iu the third person singular. This usage common enough in Shakespeare and Milton, to saj- nothing of other authors, continues still to be employed by the best writers, though grammarians seem generally unaware of the fact. When in the eighteenth century attention was directed to the text of Shakespeare, the existence of a third person plural in -s had come to be entirely forgotten. The termination in consequence, in spite of its frequency, was regarded as a mere blunder of the compositors. Whenever possible, it was quietly dropped. When this could not be done directly, changes were made in the structure of the sentence sufficient to allow it to be dis- carded. The practice began even as early as the second folio. In 'The Merchant of Venice,' for instance, where Shylock comments on Bassanio's unwillingness to have Antonio seal to the proposed bond, his words appear as follows in the original authorities, the two quartos of 1600, and the folio of 1623 : " O father Abram, what these Christians are, Whose own hard dealings teaches them suspect The thoughts of others." ^ 1 Act i., scene 3. 62 DIFFERENCES OF THE EARLY TEXTS Even at that early date teaches was apparently too much for the unknown corrector who made the alterations found in the folio of 1632. The meter, however, required a word of two syllables. So to bring about a more satis- factory condition of things, dealings was carefully changed into dealing, to the assumed benefit of the grammar and to the certain injury of the sense. So it continued until the time of Pope, who took another way out of the difficulty. After discarding the ending in -s he inserted a word of his own and made the line appear in this form : " Whose own hard dealings teach them to suspect." One of these two latter readings given was followed in every edition from the folio of 1632 to the edition of 1773. In this Steevens restored the only really author- ized text. He doubtless considered it a grammatical blunder of the author's; but he was not so devoted to Shakespeare as to feel any regret at his having committed it. But such instances were comparatively rare. Ac- cordingly the doctrine of the innate and inordinate depravity of the Elizabethan printing-house was gen- erally accepted as a sufficient explanation of the occur- rence of the termination in -s. Even at this late day the view continues to find advocates. According to the belief of some, the type-setters of that early time had a wild desire to append the ending in -s to the plural form of the present tense on every slightest pretext. By the connivance or indifference of proof- readers this was permitted to remain. Successive edi- tions perpetuated the original blunder. It is asking 63 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE rather too much of human credulity to accept the view that errors of this kind should not only be constantly perpetrated but should pass unchallenged and uncor- rected in later editions. The truth is that the type- setters of the earlier period had the not uncommon fortune of knowing more about the grammatical usages of their own time than later commentators. There is no object indeed in retaining, when unnecessaiy, in modern texts, a form which survives only in the speech of the illiterate, and because of that fact would fre- quently jar upon the educated reader's enjoyment with- out affording any counterbalancing benefit. But while making the change it is not necessary to impute to grammatical inaccuracy upon the part of the author what is really due to the ignorance of the editor. There are indeed places where change cannot be carried into effect. Passages exist where no linguistic surgery can repair the damage wrought to modern con- ceptions of grammar, nor can the burden be thrust upon the shoulders of the long-enduring compositor. The ryme requires imperatively the plural in -s. One of the lyrics in ' Cymbeline,' for instance, opens with the following lines : " Hark, hark ! the lark at heaven's gate sings, And Phoebus 'gins arise, His steeds to water at those springs On chaliced flowers that lies." ^ Here responsibility for the assumed singular but real plural lies cannot be imputed to any one but the author. To those unfamiliar with the language of the period only 1 Act ii., scene 3. 64 DIFFERENCES OF THE EARLY TEXTS one of two courses lay open. Shakespeare was either ignorant of grammar or defiant of it. His action was accordingly judged variously. By the sterner souls devoted to syntax he was censured for grammatical inaccuracy. By his thorough-going devotees he was commended for having risen superior to grammar. So great a genius as he was altogether above considerations so trivial. As a matter of fact, censure or praise was equally out of place. In employing teaches and lies and cares and numerous other words as plurals Shake- speare was merely conforming to an accepted grammati- cal usage of his time. In this particular his practice was largely the practice of his immediate predecessors and actual contemporaries. Undoubtedly the fasliion of emplojang it was not followed by some and was fated to die out speedily. But that he could not know. Shakespeare is no more to be condemned for using the plural in -s than he is for using the singu- lar; no more than would a writer of our time be ex- posed to the charge of being ungrammatical because he chose to employ doth instead of does. Such examples of legitimate grammatical variation, often not understood, necessarily tended in the past to bring about variation in the editions of the poet. They moreover indicate the hopelessness of ever expecting absolute uniformity in the future. A further example drawn from the very construction just under consid- eration will suffice to show the differences that must inevitably manifest themselves when between two read- ings lies a choice dependent not so much upon the dif- ference of meaning conveyed as upon the difference of 5 65 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE personal tastes in the editors. In the celebrated speech of Ulysses to Achilles in ' Troilus and Cressida,' he is represented in the folio of 1623 as saying, — " The welcome ever smiles, And farewells goes out sighing." i In the quarto edition of the same play /areweZZs appears as farewell. Consequently in one authority goes is a plural, in the other it is a singular. Those who prefer to follow the reading of the folio will naturally alter in the modern text goes to go, retaining the idea though not the grammatical form. Those who prefer the sub- ject in the singular will adhere to the reading found in the quarto. 1 j4ct iii., scene 3. 66 CHAPTER IV THE EARLIEST EDITIONS OF SHAKESPEARE The assertion was made at the very outset that there never has been and that there never will be an edition of Shakespeare the text of which will command universal assent. This does not imply the existence of differ- ence in matters of vital importance. It means varia- tion, to be sure, on a somewhat extensive scale ; but it is variation confined mainly to petty details. Both the fact and the reason for the fact have been made evident in the foregoing pages. But though the text of Shake- speare can never be expected to reach absolute uni- fonnity, its history shows that it has tended steadily to approach it. Already differences which once prevailed have largely disappeared with the increase in knowledge of the vocabulary and grammar of the Elizabethan pe- riod, with the clearing up of obscure allusions, once in- deed familiar but now long forgotten, and with the explanation of passages at first sight apparently inex- plicable, but which in answer to repeated inquiries as to their meaning yield at last what the dramatist himself terms pregnant replies. Towards uniformity, therefore, we have a right to believe that the text will continue to move until variation has been reduced to its lowest possible limit. It is manifest that in the obscurity which at first pre- 67 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE vailed elements of controversy existed in abundance which would be sure in time to give birth to contro- versy itself. That in turn would be fomented by the general ignorance which was then found even among the highl}' educated of matters which are now perfectly familiar to the merest tyro in Shakespearean study. But while these agencies in creating strife existed from the beginning, they remained in a latent state until the steadily increasing interest in the works of the dramatist stirred them at last into activity. It is not until we reach the age of Pope and Theobald that we find our- selves in the presence of that outbreak of contention which has been going on uninterruptedly from their day to our own. All in consequence that is necessary to do at this point is to recite briefly the facts connected with the editions which up to that period successively ap- peared, and to recount the efforts that were put forth, so far as any were put forth, to effect the restoration of the text to its presumed original integrity. So far as the seventeenth century is concerned, it may be said that hardly anything was done. During it, three editions followed that of 1623. In the one which came out nine years later occurred the first essay in the direc- tion of attempting anything in the shape of emendation — leaving out of consideration occasional changes in the quartos which may perhaps have been intended as cor- rections. The alterations found in it, though not nu- merous comparatively speaking, were too numerous, and their character was too marked, to permit them as a whole to be regarded as the result of accident, whatever might be true of individual instances. About the value 68 THE EARLIEST EDITIONS OF SHAKESPEARE of the changes tlieu made, involving as they do, the comparative value of the two earliest editions, there arose at one time a sort of petty controversy amid the wide-Yi^aging war which has been going on for nearly two centuries in reference to the text of Shakespeare. It only needs to be said here that there is now a substan- tial agreement that if some of the alterations of the folio of 1632 are for the better, the majority of them are for the worse. They may, in a few instances, have been based upon the authority of readings which the reviser had heard from the mouth of actors. In general, they are pretty certainly conjectural emendations of his own. The mdependent authority of the edition is therefore slight. The edition of 1632 satisfied all the demand which existed for these dramatic works during the stormy period that followed. The typographical excellence of the volume had indeed displeased some of the religious fanatics of the, time. Milton's tribute to Shakespeare had been prefixed to it ; but the attitude of Prynne in his ' Histriomastix,' published the year after, represents more accurately the view taken by the extremists of the Puritan party. This most violent of controversialists complained that more than forty thousand play-books had been printed and sold within the two years previous, they being more vendible, he tells us, than the choicest sermons. The abuses of the time were still further em- phasized by him in a marginal comment to the effect that Shakespeare's dramas had been printed on the best crown paper, far better than most Bibles.^ But the opening of the theaters after the return of the Stuarts 1 Prynue's ' Histriomastix,' Epistle Dedicatory, and address ' To the Christian Reader.' 69 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE and the consequent reviving interest in stage repre- sentation led to a renewed demand for the writings of the one man who, even when least in favor with pro- fessional critics, was instinctively felt by the mass of readers to be the greatest of English dramatists. So followed the edition of 1663. It was printed from the preceding folio, occasionally correcting some of its errors, more often contributing new errors of its own. The reprint of it from the same plates which came out the next year was remarkable for containing seven additional plays, in some copies occupying the begin- ning of the book, in others the end. Four of the seven had been brought out in quarto during Shake- speare's lifetime, with his name on the title-page as their author. These were ' Sir John Oldcastle,' with the date of 1600 ; the ' London Prodigal,' with that of 1605 ; ' A Yorkshire Tragedy,' with that of 1608 ; and ' Pericles,' with that of 1609. The three others had on the title-pages the initials of W. S. as the author. The letters naturally gave to the reader the impression that these pieces were the work of Shakespeare ; but they did not commit the publisher to a direct falsehood, especially as there w^as then flourishing another drama- tist whose Christian and family names began with the same letters. These three Avere 'Locrine,' printed in 1595 ; the ' Chronicle History of Thomas, Lord Crom- well,' printed in 1602, but not carrying the initials of W. S. till the edition of 1613 ; and ' The Puritan, or the Widow of Watling-street,' printed in 1607. The entire seven continued to hold their place in all subsequent editions of Shakespeare until that of Pope. 70 THE EARLIEST EDITIONS OF SHAKESPEARE After the volume of 1663-1664 followed, in 1685, the fourth and last of the folios. This was reprinted from the preceding folio and differed from it in no essential particulars save for the worse. The spell- ing was somewhat modernized, and additional errors crept in to increase the previous stock. The deteriora- tion which had been going steadily on since the folio of 1623 was here distinctly aggravated. In none of these editions liad there been any genuine attempt to edit the text. The later folios were really nothing more than bookseller's reprints. Subject to no thorough editorial supervision they had become worse with every succes- sive impression. To the almost invariable retention of previous errors had been added new ones which the carelessness of type-setters, the indifference of proof- readers, and the ignorant carefulness of occasional re- visers had united in conti'ibuting to the existing number. The original quartos, too, had by this time largely dis- appeared. Few new ones came to take their place, though in the case of certain pieces frequently acted — notably ' Hamlet ' — players' editions were brought out during the fifty yeai-s or so following the Restoration. These contain, now and then, emendations due to a desire to correct what seemed to the reviser obvious error ; but what was done was usually done with little knowledge and less judgment. The result was that the condition of the text was as a whole distinctly worse in the latter part of the seventeenth century than it was in the earlier part. Such a state of things could not continue forever. As the seventeenth century drew towards its close, 71 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE the reputation of Shakespeare was recognized to be steadily advancing. With it went on an increasing demand for his works. Men could not be expected to remain satisfied with editions which had been indif- ferently edited in the first place and had been further deformed in later impressions by errors which creep into the most carefully revised reprints and crowd into those carelessly revised. Shakespeare was beginning to assume more and more the character of a classic. The feeling grew all the while stronger that as such he should re- ceive something of the care and attention that were due to a classic. Efforts should be made to explain what was doubtful and to elucidate what was obscure. But before that could be done, it was necessary to estab- lish as definitely as possible precisely what it was that he wrote. Convictions of the necessity of this course foi'ced themselves upon the minds of publishers. To make a new edition of Shakespeare sell, it was imper- ative to do something towards reforming the text. A man for that purpose must be found. The playwright, Nicholas Rowe, wa,s the one selected to perform the task. His edition of Shakespeare — the first in whicli the dramas can strictly be said to have been edited at all — appeared in the earlier half of 1709, in six octavo vol- umes. It came from the publishing house of Tonson. It was followed the next year by a volume containing Shakespeare's poems. This was based upon the edition of 1640, which had included, and by so doing had as- cribed to him, a number of pieces with which he had no concern. The reprint made no attempt to sift the spurious from the genuine. Indeed the lack of authen- 72 THE EARLIEST EDITIONS OF SHAKESPEARE ticity of any of these additions seems not to have been suspected. The volume was apparently edited by Gildon; at least he contributed to it half its contents, consisting principally of an essay upon the stage, and remarks upon Shakespeare's plays. It was designedly made similar in size to the volumes containing the dra- matic works, but it did not come from the publishing house of Tonson. Tliis continued to be the case in the three reprints of it which followed in 1714, in 1725, and in 1728. In all of these it appears either as a supple- mentary volume or part of a supplementary volume to the editions of Shakespeare's plays which were brought out in those 3'ears. But in them Tonson had no inter- est. To Rowe's second edition of 1714, which appeared in eight duodecimo volumes, this reprint of the one brought out in 1710, containing the poems, was joined as the ninth volume ; but it bore the names of other publishers on its title-page. Of the volumes of 1725 and 1728 George Sewell was nominally the editor ; but the work in both instances was practically nothing more than a reprint of the poems as they had previously ap- peared, along with the essays of Gildon, who in the mean time had died. The account-books of Tonson indicate that Rowe was paid thirty-six pounds and ten shillings for his work on the edition. The sum seems somewhat beggarly for such a task, and the editor can hardly be blamed if he proportioned his labor to his reward. Yet pretensions to arduous exertions on his part were not lacking. Rowe professed to have done what he assuredly did not even try to do. In the dedication of his edition to the Duke of Somerset he disclaimed indeed the idea that 73 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE he had accomplished the impossible task of restoring the text to the exactness of the author's original manu- scripts. As these had been lost, all he could do, he declared, was to compare the several editions and secure from them as far as possible the true reading. This had been his endeavor; and one would infer from his words that he had been successful in carrying it out. His edition was based upon the fourth folio. In that he observed that many lines had been left out, and in 'Hamlet' one whole scene. These he had supplied. While he admitted that faults might still be found he hoped that they would be those of a merely literal and typographical nature. The student of the history of Shakespeare's text will hardly be disposed to apply so mild an epithet as 'exaggerated' to Rowe's declaration of what he had done. He possibly looked in a hasty Avay over certain of the earlier quartos. To 'Romeo and Juliet' he added the prologue which was lacking in the folios; though, for some unaccountable reason, in both his editions he placed it at the end instead of the beginning. He added also to ' Hamlet ' the second scene of the fourth act in which Fortinbras is represented as having appeared with his army. This too had been wanting in the folios. But these insertions were clearly rather the result of accident than of careful scrutiny. The emendations he made of the text came rarely, if ever, from the consul- tation of any of the original authorities. They were practically all his own. He corrected certain obvious errors. He put forth some happy and some unhappy conjectures. Still, while the work done by Rowe was neither very efficient nor very effective, there is always 74 THE EARLIEST EDITIONS OF SHAKESPEARE danger of treating him with injustice. He probably did all that he was expected or perhaps allowed to do. In contemplating his shortcomings we are apt to forget how much there was which needed to be done. Not only did he introduce some corrections which have been quietly accepted by all, lie completed two things in particular which before his time had been performed but partially. In the folios the dramatis personte were given in only eight of the thirty-six plays. The division into acts and scenes was carried out in the most imperfect and haphazard manner. Six of the plays — the second and third parts of ' Henry VI.', ' Troilus and Cressida ', ' Romeo and Juliet ', ' Timon of Athens ' and ' Antony and Cleopatra ' — begin with the heading Actus Primus, Sccena Prima. After this there is no further indica- tion of act or scene. Those which are found now rest consequently upon the authority of later editors. Furthermore ten of the plays have merely division into acts and no division into scenes. In three more — ' The Taming of the Shrew ', the first part of ' Henry VI.' and ' Hamlet ' — the division is only partially carried out. These are perhaps the most flagrant iLlustrations that can be found of the carelessness in this particular with which the work was first edited, but others could be given. These defects of the original sources Rowe remedied. It was no slight task, and it demanded in every case a careful study of the plot. Even if his conclusions were not always accepted, they furnished an invaluable starting-point for the work of further investigation. 75 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE Such was the state of things one hundred years after the death of Shakespeare, He had outhved entirely the period of comparative disparagement and neglect which seems to overtake the reputation of even the greatest authors for a while after their decease. In the estimate of men he had now forged ahead of the dramatists of his time whom previously many had been disposed to reckon as his equals. With the steadily increasing attention paid to his writings there went on in many quarters in- creased study of the text and tentative efforts towards its restoration. The impatience with its condition which had led to Rowe's partial and ineffective efforts to clear it from the errors with which it swarmed was every day growing more pronounced. It was the varying views about the proper method of securing this result which caused' the breaking out of the controversy on that subject which raged with extremest violence during the whole of the eighteenth century. In it, especially at the outset, took part no small number of men of letters of greater or less prominence. The subject itself, though not directly belonging to literature, has become, in conse- quence, to some extent an integral part of English liter- arj^ history, far more indeed than is generally supposed. The eighteenth century had not finished its first quar- ter when a new edition of Shakespeare came out under the editorial supervision of him who was reckoned then by the concurrent voice of friends and enemies as the greatest poet of the time. With its appearance begins the era of controversy. 76 CHAPTER V pope's edition op SHAKESPEARE In May, 1720, the last instalment of Pope's translation of the ' Iliad ' came from the publishing house of Lintot. The work which had absorbed the thought and toil of years was completed. From the day of the appearance of the first part in 1715 its success had been assured. Scholars might cavil then, as they have cavilled since, at the character of the rendering and at its fidelity to the original. They might point out mistakes due to the poet's ignorance of the language he was seeking to trans- late. There were doubtless grounds for the assertion constantly made at the time, and often repeated since, that Pope knew little Greek, and what little he knew he did not know accurately ; that in consequence he missed the precise sense in some places, and that even when the precise sense was given, his rendering was not made from the original, but was patched up from versions of Homer which bad already appeared in English or in French. In all charges of this sort there was unques- tionably a measure of truth. What his critics forgot was that while Pope was neither a profound nor an accurate scholar, he was a man of genius. As a result he brought to the task he set out to accomplish qualifications which 77 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE learning could not impart and pedantry was unable to appreciate. But if scholars frequently took exception to the work, the pubKc did not. With the latter it had one merit which then as now, overbalanced any possible defects. It could be read. The unflagging interest it possessed caused it to be welcomed everywhere as being itself a distinct contribution to the literature of its o^vn tongue, and not simply a version into English of the classic of another tongue. Translations of Homer have multiplied since its day. Many and perhaps all are more accurate ; some are far more interesting to scholars, and to highly educated persons of the scholastic type. But with the general public of cultivated readers Pope's version has never lost the hold which it gained at the very outset. In this undertaking. Pope had reversed the usual position of author and publisher. The profit arising from the production of the translation had come mainly to himself. But Lintot's name had been on the title- page. Even were we to assume that his connection with the work brought him no great direct pecuniary benefit, it conferred reputation upon his house. This fact did not escape the attention of his chief rival. Ton- son. There was one author for whose works a perma- nent and increasing popularity was assured. The two editions of Shakespeare, edited by Rowe, had not been sufficient to meet the growing demand of the public for the writings of the great dramatist. Still less did they come up to the requirements of slowly advancing Eng- lish scholarship. Here, as it seemed to Tonson, was his opportunity. Pope had just completed his translation 78 POPE'S EDITION OF SHAKESPEARE of the ' Iliad.' He was hailed on all sides as the British Homer. After the death of Addison, in 1719, there was no one to dispute his place at the head of English men of letters. His only possible rival was exiled to Ireland. Furthermore, Swift, tliough far superior as a writer of prose, was in the highest form of literature no rival at all. It struck Tonson as the most desirable of specula- tions that the greatest of English dramatists should be edited by the greatest of living English poets. It was an enterprise which would bring credit to his house as Avell as money to his purse. Accordingly, he made the necessary overtures. Pope listened to the voice of the charmer. In an evil hour for his comfort and reputa- tion lie agreed to undertake the task. After a fashion he accomplished it. Like the trans- lation of the ' Iliad ' the work was published by subscrip- tion. In this instance, the profits did not go to the editor. According to Dr. Johnson's statement, derived without doubt directly or indirectly from the publishers. Pope received for his labor only two hundred and sev- enteen pounds and twelve shillings. This is borne out by the ti^anscripts taken from Tonson's books, though it must be admitted that publishers' accounts have never quite attained at any period to the sanctity of a divine revelation. The amount indeed is so beggarly as to be suspicious. This would be true, v/ere we to limit our- selves to the consideration of the work any editor would be expected to perform, without taking into account the almost inestimable value of the name of this particular editor. At a later period Pope resented warmly the charge frequently insinuated and sometimes openly 79 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE made that he had a share in the profits of the subscrip- tion. As this was at the rate of a guinea a volume, it was not unfrequently termed exorbitant. No evidence has been presented that he had any interest in it; in fact, it is only from his own indignant disclaimers that most men would now be aware that any such charge had ever been brought. It is indeed his irritation, more than anything else, that makes the matter doubtful. It is a hard thing to say, but even more suspicious than the comparative pettiness of the sum reported to have been paid for his services is his repeated and angry denial of having derived personally any benefit from the subscription ; for denials of this sort were too frequently given by him to charges now known to be true. Pope's veracity is never so much to be suspected as when he is found resenting any attack upon his character or exhibiting peculiar sensitiveness to any imputations cast upon his honor. Exactly when he began the work of revising the text, and how long he was engaged upon it, we have no means of ascertaining with exactness. In a note to that edition of 'The Dunciad,' which came out in 1736^ — a time when Pope was still feeling acutely the reflections cast upon the way he had discharged his self-imposed duty — he asserted that he had assumed the burden of editing Shakespeare merely because no one else would.^ It is likewise a reasonable inference from what he further said in this same place that he took up the task im- mediately after finishing his translation of the ' Iliad ' — which he dated as 1719 — and then spent the next two 1 Note to line 326 of Book 3 ; in modern editions, line 332. 80 POPE'S EDITION OF SHAKESPEARE years in the drudgery of collation and revision. It is probable that it was this note that led Dr. Johnson in his hfe of the poet to fix upon 1721 as the year of the publication of the edition of Shakespeare — a mistake, the commission of which the slightest examination of the work itself would have rendered impossible. Pope's words, without any verification, are always taken in their natural meaning at the risk of him who bases any statements upon them. Later we shall have plenty of opportunity to see how he varied his assertions to suit his pui-pose for the time being. It is, however, reasonable to believe that Pope began the work upon the edition of Shakespeare soon after he had freed himself from all engagements connected with his translation of the ' Iliad.' From his correspondence it is evident that in the latter part of 1721 he had been for some time interested in the undertaking. A letter to him from Atterbury in October of that year makes it clear that the poet had already been, to use the bishop's phrase, " dabbling here and there with the text." ^ By the next month certainly news of the intended project had become noised abroad. " The celebrated Mr. Pope," said ' Mist's Journal,' " is preparing a correct edition of Shakespeare's works ; that of the late Mr. Rowe being very faulty." ^ After this time references are more fre- quent and infomiation more precise. It is clear from a letter of Pope to Broome, belonging to the early part of the following year, that he was then actively engaged in the preparation of the work. His comment on the first 1 Pope's ' Works,' vol. ix. p. 31. 2 November 18, 1721, p. 927, 2d colamn. 81 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE folio — which he mistakenly ascribed to 1621 — shows how little knowledge then existed of the value of the original autliorities. " The oldest edition in folio," he wrote, "is 1621, which I have, and it is from that almost all the errors of succeeding editions take rise." ^ In July, 1724, Fenton wrote to Broome that he was about to finish the completion of the index.^ Late in October of the same year Pope informed the same person that he had just written the preface, and that in three weeks the work would be out.^ The anticipation, as happens generally in undertakings of tliis nature, was not ful- filled. Not until March, 1725, were the copies dehvered to subscribers. The edition consisted of six large quarto volumes. Everything about it was excellent but the editing. Per- haps the proof-reading should be included in the excep- tion ; for there were blunders in that which in a work so pretentious and costly were inexcusable. Still, paper and type were all that could be desired ; and the ex- ternal appearance of the volumes might fairly be called sumptuous. It was in the text the deficiency lay. The preparation of it was a task for which Pope was pre-eminently unfitted. For performing the most essen- tial portion of an editor's duty he had the most insig- nificant equipment. Furthermore, he had few of the characteristics of the student as distinguished from the man of letters pure and simple. The scholastic instinct, sometimes present in poets of genius, was lacking in 1 Letter of February 10, 1722, Pope's ' Works,' vol. viii. p. 48. 2 Letter of July 19, Ibid. p. 82. 3 Letter of October 8, Ibid. p. 88. 82 POPE'S EDITION OF SHAKESPEARE him entirely. He could never have applied himself, as did Ben Jonson, to the production of an English grammar. He could never have composed, as did Mil- ton, a Latin one. lie could never have interested him- seK, as did Gray, in writing notes upon Greek authors and compiling Greek chronological tables. So consti- tuted, he had naturally failed to acquire the special qualifications which were requisite to carry through with success the work he had undertaken. He had little familiarity with the dramatic literature of the Elizabethan age. With the less known literature that was in vogue during that period he had scarcely any famiUarity at all. So ignorant was he of its importance for the illustration of Shakespeare's text that he ridi- culed the examination of it as trifling pedantry. It was probably his success as a translator of Homer which led him to believe that he was fitted for this new enterprise. It is manifest that he had formed no con- ception of the essential difference there was in the nature of the two undertakings. In editing, he could not with any propriety substitute beauties of his own for beauties in the original he had failed to find or to render. To do even creditably the work he had as- sumed, poetic inspiration was of the least possible util- ity. On the other hand, besides the mastery of a certain kind of special knowledge which he lacked entirely, it demanded a dogged industry which never flinched from the dreary drudgery of collating different and differing texts, of weighing the exact value of individual words and phrases, of scrutinizing carefully the punctuation so far as it affected the meaning. In a higher sense, much 83 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE more was required for its successful prosecution. That involved the possession of intellectual acumen of a pecu- liarly subtle type, and in particular a keen analytic in- sight which could penetrate into the meaning of the author, when most obscurely indicated, and trace the connection of thought suggested but not fully expressed in the hurry of dialogue. These were not the qualifica- tions or the characteristics which belonged to Pope. In undertaking the work he was misemploying his powers. Though not a scholar he was a man of genius ; and as a man of genius he could be far better engaged in original creation than in revising the creations of others. That a person of Pope's great abilities should have contributed nothing to the rectification and improve- ment of the text of Shakespeare would be ridiculous to assert and impossible to believe. At this point, how- ever, it rests upon us to bring out not the merits, but the defects of a work which even in an age utterly un- critical in the matter of English scholarship, excited hostile comment in many quarters. It may not be deemed surprising that it should have fallen below the extremely overwrought expectations which had been raised from the fact of Pope's assuming the editorship. But it fell below even moderate expectations. The truth is that in several respects it was much more of a failure than it has been generally reported to be. Owing to the great reputation of the poet at the time, and to circumstances which have yet to be related, the text came to be treated with a tenderness to which it never had the slightest claim. A certain prepossession in its favor, or rather a dislike to dwell upon its defects, 84 POPE'S EDITION OF SHAKESPEARE has lasted down almost to the present time. Yet, if we contrast what Pope pretended to do with what he ac- tually did, it is hardly possible to use too strong lan- guage about his course. After modestly remarking that in this edition he had given proof of his willingness and desire to do Shakespeare justice, he went on to make assertions which he soon had ample opportunity to re- pent. " I have discharged," he wrote, " the dull duty of an editor to my best judgment, with more labor than I expect thanks, with a religious abhorrence of all inno- vation, and without any indulgence to my private sense or conjecture." This was strong enough as a gen- eral statement; when it came to details it was made stronger. " The various readings," he went on to say, " are fairly put in the margin, so that any one may com- pare 'em; and those I have preferred into the text are constantly ex fide codicum, upon authority. . . . The more obsolete or unusual words are explained." Never has there been exhibited a greater contrast be- tween loftiness of pretension and meagerness of perform- ance. In some ways Pope . had the right conception of the duty to be done, and this he took care to proclaim distinctly. Furthermore, he had the means of doing it. To the final volume he appended the titles of the origi- nal authorities, which according to his own assertion he had made use of and compared. The list is headed by the folios of 1623 and 1632. It embraces quarto edi- tions of all the plays — though not all the quartos — which had appeared before the publication of the first complete edition, with the single exception of ' Much Ado about Nothing.' His means for establishing the 85 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE text were therefore fairly ample; for his age indeed they may be termed almost remarkable. The number of these early authorities in his possession makes it ac- cordingly difficult to understand the statement of Capell that Pope's materials were few. Much more confidence can be put in that editor's criticism that Pope's collation of his authorities was not the most careful. ^ The wealth of material he possessed makes in truth the contrast between his words and his action peculiarly noticeable. He said that he had carefully collated the texts of the original copies. He did nothing of the kind. He only consulted them occasionally. He said the vari- ous readings were fairly put in the margin where they could be compared by every one. Not once in fifty times was anything of the kind done. He said he never in- dulged his private sense or conjecture. He did it con- stantly and without notification to the reader. He said he had exhibited a religious abhorrence of all innova- tions, and had not preferred any reading into the text unless supported by the early copies. On the contrary, the changes he made solely on his own authority ran up into the thousands, and it was rarely the case that any indication of the fact was given anywhere. lie said that he had explained the more obsolete or unusual words. It was not often that he explained any, and when he did he sometimes explained them wrongly, and at other times explained them differently. The treatment of the words he deemed it desirable to define is indeed a fair illustration of the haphazard way in which the work on this edition was done. The num- 1 Capell's Shakespeare, vol. i. p. 16. 86 POPE'S EDITION OF SHAKESPEARE ber he took tlie trouble to explain was about one hundred and twenty. In considering them, one has always to bear in mind that the language of the eighteenth century is much f ui-ther removed from the speech of the Elizabethan period than the language of to-day. Hence, there is no small number of words familiar to us now, which were rarely if ever used then. This fact must always modify any criticism of the selection whicii Pope madfe. Still, it is difficult to believe that several of those that he felt it incumbent to define could have been unknown to the men of his generation. Even if strange^ their significa- tion in most cases could have been easily guessed from the context. Where so vast a number of really difficult words were passed over in silence, it would seem hardly worth while to inform the reader, as did Pope, that bolted means 'sifted,' that budge means 'give way,' that eld means 'old age,' that gyves means 'shackles,' that fitchew means ' polecat,' that sometime means ' formerly,' that rood means ' cross,' and that the verb witch means ' be- witch.' These, and others like these, could not have been deemed obsolete : some of them it would hardly have been right to call unusual. Still, it must be re- garded as in a measure evidence of the linguistic sit- uation then prevailing that such words as these should have been thought by the greatest writer of the age to be in special need of explanation. Proof of Pope's imperfect equipment for his task, much more striking than the selection of the words he made for definition, was too often the definition of the words he selected. These were not unfrequently the purest guesses. Even when they approached the 87 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE meaning, they sometimes failed to give it exactly. A few examples wiU set this forth clearly. The noun, hilding, 'a worthless good-for-nothing fellow,' was ex- plained by the adjectives 'base,' 'degenerate.' Caliver, ' a small gun,' was set down as ' a large gun.' Hench- man appears as ' usher ' ; hurtling, ' collision ' or ' con- flict,' as ' skirmisliing ' ; and hrach, as ' hound.' The two defmitions given of Irooeh are suggestive of the obscurity as well as misapprehension that had then overtaken the designation of that now common orna- mental fasteni»g. In one place it was explained as ' an old word signifying a jewel,' and in the other as ' a chain of gold that women wore formerly about their necks.' The ingenuity with which, when a word had two possible meanings. Pope could liglit upon the wrong one can be seen in his giving to callat, ' a strum- pet,' the sense of 'scold' ; and again in defining cot/strel, ' a knave,' as ' a young lad.' Thews, in Shakespeare, al- ways refers to physical qualities; he made it refer to moral ones. For thus defining it he had the justifica- tion that it had been sometimes so used ; but this is an explanation of his course which in other cases cannot always be trusted. In 'Antony and Cleopatra,' for instance, the queen is designated by Scaurus as " yon ribaudred nag of Egypt." ^ Pope not only followed Rowe in substituting ribald for ribaudred, but gave to the word he adopted the singular definition of "a luxurious squanderer." PuzzHng indeed it occasionally is to ascertain the quarter from which the definition of the word wrongly 1 Act iii., scene 10. 88 POPE'S EDITION OF SHAKESPEARE explained could have come. Take the case of foison. This noun, signifying ' plenty,' ' plentiful crop,' is found about half a dozen times in Shakespeare. Pope learned at last its meaning; but when he first met it in the ' Tempest,' ^ he defined it as " the natural juice or moist- ure of the grass and other herbs " ; and this sense was retained in his second edition of 1728. Still it is clear that in a number of instances his explanation of the word was inferred from the derivation or supposed deri- vation. In the first part of ' Henry IV.' the king's son rebukes Falstaff for interrupting a serious conversation with a frivolous but, it must be conceded, a very perti- nent and pointed jest. "Peace, chewet, peace," says the prince.^ Chewet has been defined as a kind of pie and as a jackdaw. Pope chose to consider it as a form of the French word chevet, and in consequence gave it the sense of ' bolster.' He was indeed always liable to get into trouble when he sought to trace his words to foreign sources. As his etymologies were often wrong, it is not at all remarkable that the explanations based upon them should not merely be guesses, but should be very bad guesses. The unscholarly nature of Pope's mind was almost invariably sure to display itself when- ever he set out to exhibit scholarship. This charge can easily be substantiated. The old English verb ear, as an example, means ' to plough.' Three times it was used by Shakespeare in his plays. Pope defined it and defined it correctly; but not con- tent with this, he went on in every instance to impart the information — needless, had it been true, but worse 1 Act ii., scene 1. ^ Act v., scene 1. 89 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE than needless since it was false — that it was derived from the Latin arare. A not dissimilar illustration is furnished by neif. This is a word which belongs to the Northern English dialects and signifies the closed hand. It is twice used by Shakespeare. In the place where it occurs in the ' Midsummer Night's Dream,' ^ it was very properly defined by Pope as a Yorkshire word for ' fist.' But this same natural and, as it might seem inevitable, interpretation as an affected term for ' hand ' he failed to adopt in the second part of ' King Henry IV.' when Pistol says to Falstaff, " Sweet knight, I kiss thy neif." ^ Instead he gave it the preposterous definition of ' woman- slave.' He had discovered in Spelman's Glossary that nativa had been used in Low Latin to indicate one born in the household; that this word had been taken over into Old French with the same signification of ' woman- slave,' but in the form neif; and from that tongue had passed with the same meaning into Old English. This sense, never heard, and doubtless never even heard of in Shakespeare's time. Pope chose to consider the ap- propriate one in the place here specified, because the mistress of Falstaff chanced to be present. He did not fare any better when he undertook to meddle with Greek. Periapt, 'an amulet,' occurs in the following line from the first part of ' Henry VI.,' " Now help, ye charming spells and periapts." ' To this last word Pope gave the signification of ' charms sowed up.' He derived it properly enough from the Greek verb periapto, which he said meant 'to sowe.' 1 Act iv., scene 1. ^ ^^t j;^ scene 4. ^ ^ct v., scene 3. 90 POPE'S EDITION OF SHAKESPEARE This particular sense has escaped the observation of lexicographers. But it was in the case of modern languages, especially of his own, that Pope's efforts to base interpretation upon etymology came to the greatest grief. In ' Much Ado about Nothing,' ^ where mention is made of the reechy — that is, the smoke-begrimed — painting, reechy was defined by him as ' valuable,' evidently under the impression that it had something- to do with rich. In ' Lear,' in the passage which now reads " All germens spill at once That make ingjateful man." ^ germens — that is 'germs,' 'seeds' — was explained as 'relations or kindred elements that compose man.' The word germane, with its sense of ' closely akin,' was clearly in Pope's mind. Again, in ' Twelfth Night,' ^ the clown remarks that " a sentence is but a cheveril glove to a good wit, how quickly the wrong side may be turned outward." Oheveril was defined as ' tender,' and to sup- port this meaning it was represented as derived from cheverillus, ' a 3'oung cock or chick.' Theobald naturally observed that this was the first time a glove had been represented as made of the skin of a cockerel, and that the real derivation was from the French word signifying ' kid.' So again when Hamlet's father speaks of himself as cut off, " Unhouseled, disappointed, unaneled,"* Pope explained unaneled — that is, ' not having received extreme unction ' — by the words ' no knell rung.' One 1 Act iii., scene 3. ^ Act iii., scene 2. 3 Act iii., scene 1. * Act i., scene 5. 91 TEE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE is indeed surprised by his occasional ignorance of what from his professed religion he would be supposed fully to know. As an additional instance, in King Henry VIII.i he changed " sacring bell " into " scaring beU." When indeed we have thrown aside the unnecessary, the inadequate, arid the actually erroneous definitions which Pope gave, we have but a sorry number of absolutely correct ones to put to his credit. It was no infrequent practice with him, when he failed to under- stand a word to replace it by another which seemed to him more satisfactory. For instance, in the line from ' Hamlet ' just cited unanointed was substituted by him for the disappointed of the original. Not the slightest hint was furnished that the word he printed was not Shakespeare's but his own. This is only one of numer- ous illustrations of the like unwarranted liberties which he took with the text. So Lear, in apostrophizing the elements, says to them, in the original edition, " You owe me no subscription." ^ For this last word Pope gave in his text submission. Ilis procedure indeed was sometimes so arbitrary that it is not always easy to make out the reason which led him to adopt the read- ings he introduced. In several instances he retained the obsolete teen, ' sorrow,' 'grief,' and further defined it correctly. Yet in ' King Richard III.' he substituted for it anguish, though the ryme required the use of the original word.^ As in a large proportion of instances 1 Act iii., scene 2. 2 Act iii., scene 2. ^ " Eighty odd years of sorrow have I seen, And each hour's joy wracked with a. week of teen." Act iv., scene 1. 92 POPE'S EDITION OF SHAKESPEARE there is no intimation that any change whatever has been made, we can never feel certain, so long as we confine ourselves to his text, whether we are reading the words of the di-amatist or those put for them by the editor. An explanation, if not an excuse, can be offered for Pope's course. In doing as he did, he was simply conforming to the reprehensible practice which prevailed during his time and long afterward in the editing or reprinting of English classics. There was little thought of preserving the original text in its integrity. It was deemed the duty of the reviser to improve it so as to adapt it to the taste of the more refined age to which he had the happiness to belong. Unwarranted changes were accordingly made at the will or the whim of the editor. Indeed the works of authors so late as Addison or Swift had frequently to endure the impertinence of having their assumed grammatical errors corrected by the veriest hacks in the pay of the booksellers. The license in which Pope indulged was therefore characteristic of his age ; only his name gave a weight and authority to the changes he made which would never have been accorded to those of an inferior man. The extrava- gances he committed have indeed met with no general recognition ; for they have been largely obscured to sight and lost to memory in the greater brilliance of Warburton's extraordinary performa.nces in the same line. So far as the text pure and simple was concerned, every~where throughout this edition were exhibited marks of grossest carelessness. The various readings 93 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE were given on the pettiest scale, nor is there ever the slightest indication of the source from which they are derived. The words found in the margin may have been taken from a quarto, from the first or the second foho, or from Rowe's text, or they may have been of Pope's own invention, for anything the reader can tell. The original punctuation was sometimes changed so as to destroy the sense ; at other times it was retained when, as the result of so doing, the sense was de- stroyed. As Pope substituted words of his own for those he did not understand, so, ignorant of the grammar of Shakespeare's time, he altered it to suit the grammar of his own time. He seems, at least at first, to have been unaware that double comparison characterized the language of the Elizabethan period, as indeed it had characterized the language of the two hundred years previous. Consequently when the Duke of Milan tells his daughter that she knows nothing of whence she came, or that he himself is " more better than Prospero, master of a full poor cell," Pope changed "more better " into " more or better." So when Shakespeare used the plural form year, years was frequently substituted. When double negation appeared, as, for instance, in a phrase containing both nor and neither, the nor became and. In all these cases no intimation was given that any change whatever had been made. In this edition, furthermore, Pope took the most unwarrantable liberty which has probably ever been taken with the text of a great author. Anything that did not suit his taste he insinuated and indeed almost directly asserted was not the composition of Shake- 94 POPE'S EDITION OF SHAKESPEARE speare, but interpolations foisted into the piece by tlie players. An impression to this effect was conveyed in particular in regard to the passages which contained quibbles, or dealt with words used seriously in the same sentence but with different meanings. In these, it is needless to observe, not merely the comedies, but also the tragedies abound. In certain cases Pope gave vigorous expression to a desire to throw out whole scenes, but contented himself with setting against them typographical marks of reprobation. This could be endured ; but there were many passages which he refused to print in their proper place. He wrenched them from the context and put them in different type at the bottom of the page. That much of the matter thus rejected is distinctly inferior cannot be questioned. None the less was his action unwarranted. It was a course of conduct that no editor, acting merely on his private judgment, had a right to follow. The matter 'dropped maj^ have been poor. It may have been Shake- speare at his worst, and possibly not Shakespeare at all. It may be that it could have been entirely omitted, as Pope asserted, without causing any break in the orderly development of the plot. But assuming all this to be true, no authority belonged to any editor to mutilate the text in this way, and substitute for what had been transmitted his private notion of what it ought to be. There can be no limit to arbitrary changes and omis- sions, if each man's taste is to be the standard of what is to be received as genuine.^ 1 There were only ten plays in which Pope did not discard some of the lines of the original. In ' Midsummer Night's Dream ,' ' Merry Wives of 95 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE - 4» The action of Pope in this particular could not, there- fore, be regarded under any circumstances as praise- woithy. But there were circumstances in which it was inexcusable. In some instances the matter degraded was essential to the full comprehension of the matter which followed. But there were proceedings even worse. Lines were occasionally dropped without any attention being called to the fact. In one or two in- stances certainly we know this to have happened as the result of pure carelessness. In others it is apparently due to his not having the slightest comprehension of the meaning. Macbeth, for illustration, in giving his in- structions to the men employed to murder Banquo, takes care to tell them that his complicity in their action must never be allowed to come to light. " Always thought That I require a clearness," ^ is the caution he interposes. These words were omitted by Pope without the shghtest notification of the fact. The only apparent reason for his so doing is that he had no conception whatever of their meaning. Other lines were thrown out of their place seemingly because they did not recommend themselves to Pope's judgment, and his judgment in a number of instances is quite inexplicable to the modern reader. Of this the play just mentioned will furnish striking exemplifica- tions. In the high-wrought passage in which Macbeth Windsor,' ' Measure for Measure,' 'As You Like It,' 'All 's Well that Ends Well,' 'Twelfth Night,' the third part of 'Henry VI.,' 'Henry VIII.,' and ' Antony and Cleopatra,' nothing was relegated to the bottom of the page. ^ Act iii., scene 1. 96 POPE'S EDITION' OF SHAKESPEARE declares that he has murdered sleep, it is not altogether easy to look with equanimity upon Pope's degradation to the bottom of the page of one of the lines of the im- passioned apostrophe to that state of rest which describes it as " Sleep that knits up the ravelled sleave of cave." * But what are we to think of an editor who coolly rele- gates to the obscurity of the margin a line which Homer might justly have felicitated himself upon writing, but which Homer's translator found himself incapable of appreciating? We all know how Macbeth, when he realizes the impossibility of even the great ocean washing the bloodstains from his hand, expresses the utter futility of such a moral purification by saying, " This my hand will rather The multitudinous seas incarnardine, Making the green one red." ^ The second line of the passage Pope discarded from the text and placed in the margin. Furthermore, not con- tent with leaving out this picture of the ceaseless play and infinite variety of the ever-restless Avaves, he de- stroyed as far as he could, the beauty of it, by printing without any authority the four words constituting the Une in the following form : " Thy multitudinous sea incarnardine." Fortunately for the text the relegation of distasteful matter to the bottom of the page was not followed, with a single exception, by later editors, even when they 1 Act ii., scene 2. ^ Ibid. 7 97 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE most firmly believed that a part of the dialogue was jejune and trivial. Not even Warburton, who was cap- able of committing ernj outrage upon the received read- ing, resorted to this course. The one exception was Sir Thomas Hanmer, whose edition appeared in 1744. He accepted and improved upon Pope's procedure. So far from finding fault with his predecessor's rejection of vari- ous passages, he regretted that more had not undergone the same sentence. Tlierefore upon his own judgment he discarded an additional number which he looked upon as objectionable. The most considerable, he tells us, was " that wretched piece of ribaldry put into the mouth of the French princess and an old gentlewoman, im- proper enough as it is all in French and not intelli- gible to an English audience, and yet that is perhaps the best thing that can be said of it." ^ He went on then to repeat Pope's accusation of the actors as the ones responsible for these wretched interpolations. While admitting that some of the poor witticisms and conceits must have fallen from the pen of Shakespeare himself, he insisted that a great deal " of that low stuff which disgraces the works of this great author was foisted in by the players after his death, to please the vulgar audiences by which they subsisted." 1 Henry V., act iii., scene 4. 98 CHAPTER VI pope's treatment op the text All that has been said of Pope's edition in the preceding chapter is the truth. It is even less tlian the truth. Yet taken by itself it would certainly give a wrong impression. In one way a great deal of in- justice has been done to Pope from his own age to the present. At the very beginning the comments made upon his edition led to the unavoidable inference that the duty which he had assumed had been performed not only unsatisfactorily, but also perfunctorily. At a later period accusations to this effect were sometimes expressed even more strongly. The belief has largely extended to our own day.^ To use a modern phrase, he has been charged with scamping his Avork. The gross unfairness of attacks of this sort Pope felt at the time and resented with a good deal of indigna- tion. So far from neglecting the task he had taken in hand, he devoted to it a great deal of attention and labor — so much indeed that the amount reported to have been paid him for his services must always seem absurdly small. 1 E.g.: "Fenton received £30, 14s. for his share in Pope's meagre edition of Shakespeare. Very little labour was bestowed upon the work, and much of that little was done by Fenton and Gay." Note by Elwin in 'Pope's Works,' vol. viii. p. 82. 99 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE The wide prevalence of the belief in the remissness displayed by him in the discharge of his duty had, however, a measure of justification. The labor he be- stowed upon his work was not the kind of labor he pretended to have bestowed. We constantly meet in life with a certain class of men who may be said to be victims of their own ideals. The motives by which they declare themselves actuated are so lofty, the ends they have in view are so elevated that ordinarily it is quite impossible for weak human nature to lift their conduct up to the level of their professions. So it was in tliis instance with Pope. He knew and pro- claimed some of the metliods of scholars, even if he did not follow them as he declared. He made the nature of a certain portion of editorial duty so clear that no one could mistake it. He set the standard for it so high that it was in the power of those he had instructed in the character and extent of its re- quirements to detect readily how far he had fallen below it. The consequence was that his failure to do what he asserted he had done led to the utterly unwar- ranted conclusion that he had done nothing at all. Yet whatever may be our opinion as to the methods he employed and the results he reached, it would be uncandid to deprive him of the credit of that industry to which he is entitled. Proofs of the time and toil he spent upon the text can be found on nearly every page. In certain passages he re-arranged the words, and thereby established the measure so successfully that his regulation of the lines has been generally adopted. He marked with much more precision the places where the 100 POPE'S TREATMENT OF THE TEXT scenes were laid — a work which on account of the fre- quency with which changes of these take place needed to be done, and to do properly required close attention. Furthermore the contributions he made to the correc- tion of the then current text were sometimes of distinct value. His edition was set up from Rowe's second edition. But there will be found instances where Pope did not follow the reading of his predecessor, but re- trieved the right one from either a quarto or the first folio. Take, for example, the speech of the consul Cominius, when he is represented as celebrating to the people the deeds of Coriolanus.^ In the text, as he found it, the hero is said to have " waited like a sea." For this Pope substituted from the first folio "waxed like a sea." Again in the same address where the re- ceived reading had been for a century that "his every motion was trimmed with dying cries," Pope substituted from the same source timed for trimmed. A little later in the speech "shunless defamy" was made to give place to " shunless destiny." These changes need only to be mentioned to have their value recognized at once. Pope's action in tliis matter was neither systematic nor thorough. Still, no one can go over it without becom- ing aware that in his way he at intervals labored hard upon the text. All that he did could never have been reckoned great work ; but some of it, so far as it went, was good work. Furthermore, to some of the plays he added passages which did not appear in the edition of his predecessor. Their absence from that was owing to the fact that they 1 Coriolanus, act ii., scene 2. 101 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE were not contained in the folios. Pope was accordingly the first to lay the quartos under contribution for the establishment of the modern text. To ' Hamlet ' he added a few lines fi'om this source ; to ' Lear ' a great many, — roughly speaking, about one hundred and fifty, including a whole scene. These are specimens of the work he did which suffice to free him from the charge of having treated with almost total neglect the authori- ties which he pretended to have collated. There is something also to be said in favor of his conjectural emendations. Some of them certainly deserve all the harsh criticism which they have received ; but there are others which are peculiarly happy. Several of them have commended themselves to all, or at least to the vast majority of later editors, and may be said to have now become a constituent part of the received text. It is the misfortune of Pope, however, that he can rarely be praised as an editor in any particular without reservation. It was not often his wont to do his work thoroughly. He restored, as we have seen, to the text of 'Lear' about one hundred and fifty lines from the quarto ; he left about a hundred more to be added from the same source by Theobald. The thing should have been done completely or not done at all. To refrain from doing either the one or the other merely illustrated in consequence the capricious way in which he dealt with his authorities. No settled principles in fact deter- mined his action in any given case. He had used the quartos to improve the text ; he likewise used them to mar it. Living at the time he did, he was pardonable for not possessing either the knowledge or the critical 102 POPE'S TREATMENT OF THE TEXT sagacity which would have enabled him to decide upon the comparative value of early editions where more than one existed of the same play. This was a knowledge, to which the imparting of anything like certainty required almost a further century of investigation. What was inexcusable was the deference he paid to some of the early quartos whose manifest corruption ought not to have been hid from the most superficial student. These particular quartos are now universally recognized as among the pirated, and imperfect because pirated, plays wliich tlien came not infrequently from the press. Pope pompously proclaimed them as " first editions," and gave the impression that the form in which they appeared was due to the author himself. This is indicated in his attitude towards the corrupt quarto of ' Henry V.,' which was originally published in 1600. In his controversy with Theobald he pretended to rate the text of this wretched edition as being in some ways of superior value to that of the same play as found in the folio of 1623, because it had come out in Shakespeare's lifetime. But perhaps his worst achievement in this line was in the case of the imperfect pirated quarto of ' Romeo and Juliet,' which appeared in 1597. Poor as it was, he paid to it the most marked deference. In his preface he said in praise of it that there was no hint in it of " a great number of the mean conceits and ribaldries " which were now to be found in the play.^ Upon the strength of its readings he not only failed to retain in the text numerous lines, he did not even trouble himself to put them at the bottom of the page. There are instances in 1 Pope's Shakespear, vol. i.. Preface, p. xvi. 103 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE which it is hard to say whether the recklessness or the audacity displayed in these rejections is the greater. In one place he omitted nineteen serious lines in the speech of Friar Laurence to Romeo.^ He mentioned the fact, to he sure, — it was something which he often thought it not worth while to do, — but it was in the following way that he mentioned it: "Here follows in the common books," he wrote, "a great deal of nonsense, not one word of which is to be found in the first edition." So in the succeeding scenes nearly a dozen lines are omitted ; none of them, however, are so indicated. This is far from being the only play in which he threw out passages because he deemed them unworthy of Shakespeare, ac- companying their rejection with a running comment of disapprobation. In ' Othello,' for illustration, certain of the abrupt exclamations wrung by lago from the tortured spirit of the Moor, are relegated to the margin with the following note, " No hint of this trash in the first edition." 2 A more serious charge can be brought against Pope's manipulation of the text. Among the early plays which are still extant is a comedy entitled ' The Taming of a Shrew.' Pope recognized the closeness of the resem- blance between this and the play of Shakespeare's which bears almost the same title. Plot and scenery, he said, were not essentially different. In certain respects he even thought the presumably older comedy to be supe- rior. Still he was not inclined to attribute its composition to the dramatist. " I should not think it written by 1 Act iii., scene 4. ^ Pope's Sliakespear, vol. vi. p. 551. 104 POPE'S TREATMENT OF THE TEXT Shakespear," are his words.^ Yet with this belief about it he added in two places lines from it to the Induction of Shakespeare's play.^ They are in no way necessary to the sense, and it is not easy to discover any motive for tlieir insertion. He had also before him the old play in two parts entitled ' The Troublesome Reign of King John.' Though on its title-page it purported to have been written by Shakespeare and Rowley, there was no question in his mind as to its spuriousness. He accordingly did not append it to his list of quartos con- sulted and compared. " The present play," he said of Shakespeare's on the same subject, " is entirely different and infinitely superior to it." ^ Yet from this admittedly spurious piece he received into the text of the genuine in one place twelve lines, in another three lines. Both interpolations were unnecessary, and the latter compelled the omission of a part of one line of the original. These are sins both of omission and of commission : but whatever their gravity, they make it clear that Pope was far from slighting the early editions. Still, there was never any systematic or thorough coUation of them. In its stead was merely occasional consultation. Even this seems to have been largely a matter of caprice. His method of proceeding in general may be stated as having been about as follows. If a puzzling sentence chanced to arrest his attention, his first thought appar- ently was to amend it by some conjecture of his own. If no way of clearing up the difficulty presented itself 1 Pope's Shakespear, in Table of Editions at end. 2 Ibid. vol. iii. pp. 279 and 283. 8 Ibid. vol. iii. p. [115.] 105 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE to his mind, he turned to the quartos or folios for help. If a satisfactory solution of the difficulty could be de- rived from these sources, he availed himself of it, though assuredly not in all cases. How indifferently, how neg- ligently this work of consultation was done, there are plenty of examples to show. Specimens have been given of Pope's corrections of Rowe's text in the speech of Cominius in the tragedy of ' Coriolanus.' In this same speech occurs also in the first folio — which he must have had before his eyes — the following passage : " As weeds before A vessel under sail, so men obeyed And fell below his stem." In all the later folios weeds had been replaced by waves. Pope not only retained tliis reading, but improved upon it after his fashion. He changed stem to stern; and it was not until Malone's edition of 1790, that the text of the folio was restored in its entirety. Steevens indeed clung to ivaves to the last and defended it. In his emendations, furthermore, there was occasion- ally displayed something more than misunderstanding of meaning. He evinced at times an intellectual obtuse- ness which, considering his intellectual power, affords matter for legitimate surprise. The negative failures were, however, far more pronounced than the positive. He let go by without remark, and apparently without remarking, sentences out of which it seems impossible to extract any satisfactory meaning. Obscurity due to badness of text escapes at intervals the attention of even the most keenly observant. This was sure to be frequently the case with an editor of the character of 106 POPE'S TREATMENT OF THE TEXT Pope. In the hurry of perusal he did not observe difficulties which lay in his way. Sometimes too these could have been removed with the least possible trouble. A consultation of the original authorities which he had at his command would have set right passages which as found in his edition are obscure, when they are not incomprehensible. Illustrations of these characteristics of his work need not detain us here. A sufficient number of examples will be furnished when we come to the detailed account of the controversy which went on later between him and his rival editor. Indolence, however, has its compensations as well as its disadvantages. It is one of the results of Pope's hap-hazard way of dealing with the text that he left passages unchanged which at first sight seemed to demand alteration of some sort to give them any sense whatever. It is possible that extraordinary perspicacity on his part led him in some instances to take this course; it is altogether more probable, it is in truth practically certain, that his action was due generally, if not invariably, to heedlessness, or indisposition to grapple with the difficulties that presented themselves. Such places usually underwent more or less of transfor- mation at the hands of later editors. But fuller and closer investigation has established a satisfactory sense for the original reading, sometimes the very sense which demands its retention. The altered passage has accord- ingly been restored to the state in which it first appeared, and in which it was left by both Rowe and Pope. The action of the latter in letting sentences remain as he found them brought him in many instances into trouble; 107 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE but in some it has turned out distinctly to his advan- tage. In the feverish activity of modern life we are too little disposed to recognize what an important part for good is often played by indolence. The indisposition manifested at times by Pope to disturb the existing text has in several cases redounded not only to its benefit but to the benefit of his own reputation. It is a natural inquiry after statements of this sort, what is it that Pope did to entitle him to the praise of industry which was accorded to him at the beginning of this chapter? In the things in which the excellence of an editor is supposed mainly to consist — the colla- tion of texts, the correction of errors, and the clearing up of obscurities — he failed relatively, or in the eyes of some almost absolutely. In spite of all this there is ample reason for ascribing to him industry. It was not to these aims of the modern conscientious editor that Pope's attention was mainly directed. It was tlie meter for which he specially cared, not the matter. Therefore it was to the rectification of the measure that he largely devoted himself. It was a task congenial to his taste and his temperament, and in performing it his activity was ceaseless. In the text of Shakespeare, as it has come down to us, there are defective lines, there are redundant lines, there are lines that do not read smoothly. It was an object which Pope kept steadily in view to remove these irregularities, to reduce every- thing to the measured monotony of eighteenth-century versification. To bring about this result, words were inserted in the verse, words were thrown out, or the order of words was changed. To these three classes 108 POPE'S TREATMENT OF THE TEXT belonged the vast majority of Pope's emendations. Nor were they few in number. On the contrary, they mounted into the thousands. Sometimes indeed the whole method of expression underwent transformation. As a general rule these omissions, additions, and altera- tions were in one sense unimportant. Very rarely do they affect the meaning. Still, this is not always the case; it could not well be. The rage of emendation is something against which the sanest of editors has always to be on his guard. Once under its influence he never knows to what extremes he will insensibly be driven. In dealing with the text of Shakespeare, Pope followed the unchecked license of editors of English classics before and after his time. He did with it what seemed right in his own eyes. In the matter of versification in particu- lar, he gave unrestrained loose to his passion for me- chanical regularity. The changes he made were in consequence exceedingly numerous. Furthermore, they were nearly all made silently. In scarcely a single in- stance where the line has undergone alteration for the sake of^ the meter is there the slightest hint furnished of the deviation which has taken place from the original. What has been observed of the words constituting the vocabulary is equally true of the verse as a whole. In any given case we are never sure whether we have the text in the exact form in which Shakespeare presumably wrote it, or as Pope altered it. With him indeed began the practice so prevalent in the eighteenth century of reducing the lines to the uniformity which men had learned to love. If this could be done by him we 109 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE need not feel surprised at the conduct of his admirers and imitators. They improved upon the example he had furnished. For though he had reaped a great part of this particular harvest, there was stiU a good deal left for later meter-mongers to glean. The process was objectionable, the results were un- trustworthy. It was objectionable, not merely because it represented Shakespeare berouged, periwigged, and at- tired generally according to the fashionable literary mode of the eighteenth century, but because it often happened that what was gained in artificial harmony was more than lost in expressiveness and force. It was untrustworthy because the changes made were sometimes due to the ignorance of the grammar and pronunciation of the period as well as of its methods of versification. No small share of the work of later students of Shake- speare has been to relieve the text from the alterations made in it bj^ earlier editors, and to restore it as far as possible to the state in which it had originally appeared. Consequently, while it can be justly said that Pope de- voted much time and labor to the work he had assumed, it is equally just to say that it was largely time wasted and labor misemployed. It is a question indeed whether the text of Shakespeare suffered more from his indolence or from his industry. At the outset it certainly suffered more from his industry. Little conception have we now of the all- powerful influence wielded by Pope in his own time, especially during the latter years of his life. It occa- sionally overrode, as we shall have occasion to see, all considerations of probability, justice, and truth. In the 110 POPE'S TREATMENT OF THE TEXT particular subject under discussion his influence was ma- terially aided by the then general ignorance of what we now call English scholarship, or rather by the absolute indifference to it which prevailed. So uncritical was the age, so potent was Pope's opinion, especially in matters of versification, that the host of changes silently made by him in the text with the implied or avowed intent of improving and perfecting it, were blindly adopted by his immediate successors without any thought apparently of questioning their necessity or desirability. That Han- mer and Warburton should have accepted the remodel- ling he made of the lines is not surprising. But it shows how unbounded was the deference paid to his metrical skill that these alterations should have been so largely left undisturbed by Theobald. It gives even a more impressive idea of the authority attaching to Pope's opinion that in regard to matters in which he is recognized to have been no authority at all, his procedure was frequently followed by Theobald with- out protest or question. Utterly indefensible additions made by him received in numerous instances the sanction of his immediate successor, and hence of those still later. In particular, the passages already mentioned, which he foisted into the text from plays with which he confessed Shakespeare had had nothing to do, were adopted from him by his rival editor. There was a possible excuse for this course in the case of the lines borrowed from 'The Taming of a Shrew.' That comedy Theobald had never had an opportunity to examine. He might in consequence feel that there wi?s justification for in- cluding the lines which had been inserted from it into 111 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE the text. Indeed, Capell declared much later that he had been unable to secure the play, though he had taken great pains to trace it; and that Pope was the only editor by whom up to that time it had been seen.^ But even here Theobald's action was inexcusable. It was bad enough to print the lines supplied; it was far worse not to follow his predecessor in indicating the foreign source from which they came. Furthermore, in the case of ' King John' Theobald's course had not the sanction of his own conscience. In that play he adopted Pope's additions with the perfect knowledge that there was no warrant at all in the oiigi- nal for their insertion. To the longer of the two spurious passages — the twelve lines of dialogue between Austria and Falconbridge — he indeed interposed an objection. He protested in a note that they were not essential to the clearing up of the circumstances of the action, as Pope had pretended. He proved conclusively that the ground for the quarrel between the Bastard and the Austrian duke had been sufficiently denoted already ; that consequently the lines boi'rowed from the old play had been adopted arbitrarily and unjustifiably. After doing all this he then proceeded to insert them in his own edition. "As the verses are not bad I have not cashiered them," he wrote.^ No clearer view could be given of the early eighteenth-century idea of editing the text of an English author than are these words coming from one of its most conscientiovis scholars. It was this submission of his own judgment to that of the man who 1 Capell's Shakespeare, vol. i., Introduction, p. 2. ' Theobald's Shakespeare, vol. ill. p. 200. 112 POPE'S TREATMENT OF THE TEXT had despitefuUy used him that gave Capell his pretext for denouncing Theobald as being no better collator than Pope himself. Two or three other characteristics of Pope's edition need to be mentioned before passing to the controversy that was occasioned by it. He threw out, on the ground of both matter and manner, " those wretched plays," as he styled them, which had been added to the third folio and had been subsequently included not only in the fourth, but in the two editions of Rowe. Though they were but seven in number, he with his usual heedlessness spoke of them in the preface to his first edition as eight.^ For taking this course he had the authority of the first two folios ; but there is no question that his main reason for discarding them was his perception of their inferior- ity as hterature. Since his action these have been no longer included in the accepted canon of Shakespeare's writings with the one exception of ' Pericles.' This view of the additions to the folio of 1663 was not a new one to take. It was a conclusion which anybody would be certain to reach the moment he approached the consideration of them in a critical spirit. It had in fact been both entertained and expressed many years before. Gildon informs us that the great actor, Betterton, had told him that these pieces were spurious. He himself admitted ' Pericles,' but the other six he condemned with unwarrantable extravagance. He declared that they had not anything in them, not so much even as a line, to lead any one to think them of Shakespeare's composition.^ 1 Pope's Shakespear, vol. i. p. xx. 2 Poems of Shakespeare (ed. of 1714), p. 373, 8 113 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE But though Pope had been anticipated in his view, he was the first to carry it into practice. It needed in truth a man of liis literary position to defy at that time the precedent which had been established for including them ; and perhaps to no one else would the assent to the exclusion from the canon have been then so unresistingly accorded. His judgment in rejecting them has never been seriously called in question, with the one exception already noted, by any Englishman, in spite of all the absurd vagaries which are wont to mas- querade under the guise of Shakespeare study. No one indeed in these modern times is likely to stand up unqual- ifiedly for the genuineness of any of the numerous plays once attributed at times to the dramatist, but now utterly discarded, unless it may be an occasional German. That very possibility is of itself proof how little a foreigner is ever qualified to appreciate the subtle characteristics which disclose to the native the genuineness or spurious- ness of particular works. External evidence he may judge accurately; internal evidence is to him largely a sealed book. It gives in truth a vivid view of the sort of Shake- speare that Germany might have conferred upon us, if we mark the pieces of varying degrees of wretchedness which have been ascribed to him by some of her fore- most scholars and critics. Their conclusions furnish an interesting commentary upon the claim, sometimes ig- norantly put forth in her behalf, that she was the first to reveal the poet to the men of his own race. Tieck, for instance, was one of the most enthusiastic of the early foreign devotees of the dramatist. His natural 114 POPE'S TREATMENT OF THE TEXT superiority in literary appreciation and insight to the great mass of such students, no one would be likely to question. Nor for that matter did he himself entertain any doubt as to his excelling in this respect Shake- speare's countrymen. He observed that the weak side of the later English commentators was poetic criticism. He censured them for their contemptuous rejection of the proposition that Shakespeare was concerned in any one of the numerous pieces for which groundless rumor or bookselling craft had made him responsible. Then he proceeded to exhibit his own critical sagacity by treating several of these plays as certain or possible pro- ductions of the dramatist. There was no doubt in his mind that it was from Shakespeare's pen alone that ' Arden of Feversham ' could have come.^ Others may have belonged to the period of his youth. Why, he said, should not ' Fair Em ' have been a specimen of the feeble strivings of his poetic pinions when without knowledge and without experience he first sought to write for the stage ? ^ Why should not Shakespeare, he again asked, have conformed to the practice then preva- lent and joined a weaker poet in the composition of ' The Birth of Merlin ' ? ^ These views are sometimes put forth hesitatingly, to be sure; that they could be put forth at all furnishes convincing evidence of how utterly great abihties in possession of the foreigner fail to acquire that instinctive sense of the possible in au- thorship which seems to fall almost as an inheritance to 1 Tieck's Kritische Schriften, Erster Band, s. 261 (Leipzig, 1848). 2 Ibid. B. 279. 3 Ibid. B. 304. 115 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE the native of comparatively moderate powers who has once imbued himself with the feeling of a writer's man- ner and familiarized himself with his characteristic methods of expression. The case is even worse with Schlegel, the creator in part of that version of Shakespeare which is regarded as one of the great masterpieces, if not the great master- piece of German translation. This critic, who had un- hesitatingly proclaimed the superiority of the dramatic art of the great Elizabethan to that of the so-called classical school, accepted as probably, or rather as cer- tainly genuine the seven pieces which from the time of Pope had been, witli one exception, thrown out of every English edition as unmistakably spurious. Nor was he content with this negative approval. Three of the seven — ' Thomas Lord Cromwell,' ' Sir John Old- castle,' and ' The Yorkshire Tragedy ' — he declared to be not only written by Shakespeare but to deserve being classed among his best and maturest works.^ The two former were in his opinion models of the biographical drama. In the last of the three mentioned the tragic effect was declared to be overpowering; of special sig- nificance indeed was the poetical way in which the subject had been handled. Schlegel's criticism of the art displayed by Shakespeare exhibited the keenest in- sight. When it came to a question in which literary sensitiveness was a determining factor in reaching a cor- rect decision we can see for ourselves the result. One, indeed, often comes to have the feeling that if Germany 1 A. W. Schlegel's Dramatische Vorlesungen, zweiter Theil, aweite Abtheilung, s. 238 (Heidelberg, 1814). 116 POPE'S TREATMENT OF THE TEXT had had its way completely, Shakespeare would have received credit for the authorship of most of the pieces which he did not write, and would have been deprived of the credit of most of those which he did. It is needless to insist, however, upon the superiority of Pope's taste and discrimination to any qualities of that sort possessed by a foreigner. There was, indeed, one peculiarity of his edition which was mainly due to his appreciation of literature as literature. To a certain extent he made it a collection of elegant extracts taken from Shakespeare. He distinguished what he called the most shining passages by commas at the beginning of the lines, and where the beauty lay not in particulars but in the whole he prefixed an asterisk to the scene. It was something which by nature he was qualified and b}'' inclination was disposed to do. Yet, even here we are occasionally treated to surprises. The celebrated passage, for example, in ' llichard III.' in which Clar- ence relates to Brackenbury his terrible dream finds with him neither general nor specific approval. Still, this portion of the work he had assumed was, as a whole, well done ; it will always remain a question whether it was worth doing. Such designation of beauties lies justly open to the censure which Johnson passed upon it in the proposals he put forth for his own edition. Johnson asserted that for that part of his task which consisted in the observation of faults and excellences Pope was eminently and indisputably fitted, and for this only. " But I have never observed," he added some- what dryly, " that mankind was much delighted with and improved by these asterisks, commas, or double 117 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE commas ; of which the only effect is that they preclude the pleasure of judging for ourselves, teach the young and ignorant to decide without principles ; defeat curi- osity and discernment by leaving them less to discover ; and at last show the opinion of the critic without the reason on which it was founded, and without affording any light by which it may be examined." It is to be added that the only other editor who followed this prac- tice was Warburton. To the completed work Pope furthermore contributed a preface. During most of the eighteenth century — down to and including the variorum of 1821 — this was reprinted in nearly all the editions which followed. It was also regarded, almost universally, as the proper thing to admire. The opinions of a man of genius are as- suredly always worth considering. In this instance too they have a historic value, because here Pope repre- sented fairly the general critical attitude of his time in regard to the merits and defects of Shakespeare. It had besides some special excellences of its own. It took sensible ground upon the learning of Shakespeare, or his alleged want of learning. It denied the truth of the opinion even then prevalent that Ben Jonson was his enemy. There are, furthermore, several very fine and genuine tributes paid to Shakespeare's greatness. But, as a whole, the preface cannot be conceded much critical value from the modern point of view. In some places, besides, it was disfigured by errors of fact. Worse than all, it was made at times the vehicle to con- vey the editor's opinion, not of the author he was seek- ing to illustrate, but of the men for whom he had come to entertain dislike. 118 POPE'S TREATMENT OF THE TEXT Pope's relations with the actors of his day were never cordial after the failure, in 1817, of ' Three Hours after Marriage.' Towards Colley Gibber, on the whole the most noted representative of the theatrical world, he ex- hibited during the last twenty-five years of his life pecu- liar venom. His feelings colored many of the assertions he made in his preface, and affected to some extent his method of editing the text. Of the players of Shake- speare's time he invariably spoke with contempt — ap- parently forgetting that Shakespeare himself was one of them. Upon them, he chose to charge — as has already been intimated — everything he found in the dramas of the nature of mean conceits or petty ribaldry. It was they who were responsible for this stuff. It was they who had sought to tickle the ears of the groundlings by foisting these ridiculous passages into the plays. Shakespeare was exempted from censure in order by so doing to belabor his theatrical associates. All this may be so ; but Pope was in no position to prove that it was so. The defects of Pope's edition were naturally far from being as evident to his own generation, and even gener- ations much later, as they are now. At the time, men grumbled much more at the extravagant price at which it was issued than they did at the character of the edit- ing. The one was a matter which the very dullest could comprehend ; of the other it was in the power of extremely few to form anything like an intelligent opin- ion. The dissatisfaction was not lessened by the pub- lisher's advertisement, when the work was on the point of appearing, that the price would be advanced for those 119 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE who were not subscribers. It was a further subject of complaint that the binding of the volumes would in- crease considerably the cost of what was already too costly.^ As Pope had publicly proclaimed that the sub- scription was not for his benefit, the wrath of men was directed against Tonson. Still, it is clear that vague suspicions were entertained, both then and afterward, of the poet's complicity in the whole scheme. The expression of feeling just indicated, the publisher doubtless bore with equanimity ; but he as well as his editor was pretty surely distui'bed by criticism of an- other kind which came from another quarter. During the years that had elapsed since the publication of Rowe's first edition, there had been growing up a small body of men who had given and were giving a good deal of time and thought to the study of Shakespeare. They had learned by diligent examination something of the difficulties presented by the received text, they had gained some idea of the measures that needed to be taken to effect its restoration. To such persons, the failure of Pope's methods was apparent. It was easy to set in sharpest contrast the difference that existed between what he had promised and what he had per- formed. From out this number, came forward one to subject to strictest examination the work which had been so pompously heralded. He was of all English- men then living the man best equipped for the task. His name was Lewis Theobald. 1 See, for example, articles in ' Mist's Journal ' for March 20 and March 27, 1725. 120 CHAPTER VII THE EAELY CAREER OP THEOBALD The career of Pope is so well known that any por- trayal of it in a work of this character would be justly deemed an act of supererogation, if not of impertinence. Accordingly nothing in regard to it shall be given here save what is necessary to explain his connection with the Shakespearean quarrel in which he became engaged. No such course, however, can be followed in the case of the man with whom he came into collision. Of him but little is known ; much of the little said to be known is wrong. It becomes, therefore, a matter of some conse- quence to give a fairly full account of the scholar who is one of the two leading figures in the first and fiercest of the controversies which have arisen in regard to the text of Shakespeare. This man was Lewis Theobald, or Tibbald, as the name was regularly spelled by Pope. It was perhaps so written by him to accord with the pronunciation. He and Pope were, in the most exact sense of the word, con- temporaries. Both were born in 1688, both died in 1744. To a certain extent they engaged in the same pursuits. Both wrote poetry, both put forth translations of ancient writers, both edited Shakespeare. Here the resemblance ceases. The one, a man of genius, became the acknowl- 121 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE edged head of the poets of his time. The other was a middling writer, whose productions, though sometimes far from being actually bad, had little reputation while he was alive, and from the time of his death have been subjected to constant depreciation, especially from those who have never read a line of them. On the other hand, he possessed a critical acumen in the rectification of cor- rupted texts vouchsafed to but few. He as much sur- passed Pope as a commentator as the latter surpassed him as a poet. He was the first great editor of Shake- speare, and still remains one of the few entitled to be so designated. Theobald was born in Sittingbourne, Kent, a few weeks before Pope. His father was an attorney who died while the son was still young. Theobald tells us himself that it was to a member of the nobility, a portion of whose estates was in the neighborhood of his birth- place, that he owed everything. This patron it was who had screened him, to use substantially his own words, from the distresses of orphanage and a shattered fortune ; who, not content with protecting him from the cradle, had given him an education, which he could fairly boast to have been liberal ; for during seven years he had been the companion and fellow-student of his son. The patron was Lewis Watson, the first earl of Eockingham. The son, who died before his father, was viscount Sondes. He was very nearly of the same age as Theobald. Had he lived, it is no unreasonable supposition that his old schoolmate would have been spared many of the anxi- eties and troubles which later were to beset his life. There can be no question that Theobald's education 122 THE EARLY CAREER OF THEOBALD was liberal. The instruction he received must have been exceptionally good, and it is clear that he well improved his opportunities. There was a common consent among his contemporaries best qualified to judge that he was exceedingly well stored with classical learning. Even in his later years, when he was subjected to constant attack, those who depreciated his ability were very cautious as to the reflections they ventured to cast upon his scholar- ship. That was an exploit reserved for later times and for men who had not one tithe of his knowledge. But however ample may have been the learning which he came to possess, it was not acquired at any of the great public schools of England or at either of the universities. According to a brief account — doubtless submitted to him, if not furnished by him — which was contained in a collection of biographies published during his lifetime, his studies were carried on chiefly under the Reverend Mr. Ellis, of Isleworth in Middlesex.^ It was doubtless at this place and under that instructor that he and vis- count Sondes were fellow-students. Theobald was destined for the profession of the law and began its practice. He perhaps never abandoned it entirely, for there are several contemporary references to him as engaged in the pursuit. Indeed in a letter of his own to Warburton, written in March, 1729, he told his correspondent that he had been fatigued with more law business than the present crisis of his affairs made desirable.2 It does not follow with certainty from these words that he was then actually practising his profession ; 1 Jacob's 'Poetical Register/ vol. i. p. 257 (ed. of 1723). 2 Letter of March 18, 1729, in Nichols, vol. ii. p. 204. 123 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE but it is the most natural interpretation of them. Still, in any case law was with him an avocation rather than a vocation. The attention he paid to it became, and prob- ably early became, entirely subordinate to other pursuits. His heart was in literature, ancient and modern, espe- cially in the literature of the drama. To this he made contributions of his own, such as they were, during his whole life. While his abilities were not sufficient to lift him out of the common ruck of theatrical writers, the familiarity he acquired with the stage, and what is called its business, was of essential service to him in the great achievement of his life, the interpretation and emendation of the text of Shakespeare. After a fashion he was precocious. It is not at all unlikely that liis appetite for knowledge and his devo- tion to study was the main motive that led his patron to provide him with the means of acquiring an educa- tion. In one way Theobald's zeal was misdirected. It is evident that from his early years he was fired with poetic ambition, and his desire for distinction in this field never forsook him entirely during his whole life. In 1707, when he was less than twenty years old, he made his first appearance in print. It was with the pro- duction of one of those spuiious Pindaric odes which Cowley had brought into vogue, and which had been afflicting English literature since his death. The sub- ject of the poem was the union of Scotland and England which had been effected the preceding year. This ode, which was published as written by Lewis Theobald, Gent., was dedicated to his kinsman John Glanville, of Broadhurston, Wiltshire. It was preceded by some 124 THE EARLY CAREER OF THEOBALD eulogistic verses addressed to the author by "an in- genious and obliging friend," who signed himself J. D. To those who knew Theobald personally a certain in- terest for that very reason would then attach to the production. To them the merit attributed to the piece, whatever it was, would be further enhanced by the youth of the writer. The only attraction it can have for us now is the exceeding absurdity of much that was written. It is with the following lines the poem opens : " Haste, Polyhymnia, haste ; thy shell prepare : I have a message thou must hear, But to the car a salamander tie : Thou canst not on a sunbeam play. And scud it through the realms of day, AVhere great Hyperion sits enthroned on high." This extract — pretty plainly inspired by the opening lines of Cowley's ' Muse ' — will be sufficient to satisfy the cravings of the most curious in i-egard to the author's early poetic achievement. It is just to add, however, that it is about the worst part of the worst piece he ever wrote. In what way Theobald came to have a connection with the theater there seem to be no means of ascertain- ing. Yet in 1708, the year following the production of his ode, he accomplished a feat which, though not un- rivalled in the annals of precocity, is for all that one of the rarest in the history of the stage. At this particu- lar time there was in London but one play-house with but one company of players. To it and to them aspir- ants for dramatic fame were necessarily compelled to offer their productions. Accordingly the rejections could not 125 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE have failed to be numerous, and the favor of the manager and actors by no means easy to secure. Yet on the 31st of May, 1708, was performed at Drury Lane a play of Theobald's entitled 'The Persian Princess, or the Royal Villain.' On that day he was but a few weeks over twenty years of age. The piece was preceded by a prologue which pleaded the youth of the writer as a reason for indulgence. We may form what estimate we choose of the play itself ; but to have a production of this sort accepted and performed at the sole theater then existing in London and with its two principal pai'ts taken by the leading tragic actors of the time, Wilks and Booth, must be regarded as a wonderful achievement for an author who was nothing but a mere boy. It is hardly necessary to observe that ' The Persian Princess' is not a great play. Nor does it seem to have met with any particular success. Though caEed a tragedy, it ends happily for the hero and the heroine. Tragical it is, however, to an extent sufficient to satisfy the taste most sanguinarily disposed. It conforms fully to the Elizabethan tradition as to the shedding of blood. Of the eight male characters four are despatched on the stage ; and while it is behind the scenes that a fifth swal- lows the poison which destroys his life, care was taken to exhibit to the audience a full view of his dying agonies. Though the piece was brought out in 1708, it was not till 1715 that it was published. If the form in which it appeared at the latter date was the form in which it was acted, it must be deemed, in spite of certain absurdities and extravagances, a by no means poor production for 126 THE EARLY CAREER OF THEOBALD SO young a writer. Theobald on his part took pains to give the impression that no changes had been made in the interval which had elapsed between performance and publication. In the introduction which he furnished to the play when printed, he asserted that he had been so much occupied in the translation of works of importance that he had had no time to throw away in correcting and improving this early production. Furthermore he tells us that it was wnitten and acted before he was fully nineteen. This may have been true of the compo- sition ; it was assuredly untrue of the performance. There was indeed in his language an affected tone of depreciation of the work as a trifling piece which had been suffered to lie in obscurity for half a dozen years until the repeated importunities of friends had wrung from him a reluctant consent to the publication. No great weight need be attached to assertions of this sort. The request of friends was part of the stock in trade which every writer of the eighteenth century felt at liberty to draw upon as a pretext for venturing into print. At a somewhat early period in his life — the date cannot be fixed wibh our present knowledge — Theo- bald took up his permanent residence in London. To a certain extent he led there for a long time the life of a hack-writer, though most of the work he set out to perform was a good deal above the capacity of the literary proletariat which then and later swarmed in that city. During the latter half of this interval, and the period immediately following, we find him busied with the composition of all sorts of productions, ranging 127 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE from the highest kind of poetry to the humblest prose. He wrote biographies, he wrote original poems, he wrote short pieces on all sorts of topics which had for the moment engaged the attention of the public. He fol- lowed the literary fashion which had been set a few years before by Steele and Addison and had now become general. He produced a series of periodical papers under the title of 'The Censor.' These were begun in April, 1715, and appeared three times a week for thirty numbers. They were then discontinued with the intention of being taken up again in four months ; but it was not until January, 1717, a year and a half later, that the work was resumed. With the publication of the ninetj^-sixth number on the first of June of that year it concluded.^ In these various attempts Theobald attained a moder- ate degree of success. His productions were almost invariably respectable, even when prepared solely to meet an immediate demand, though not a single one of them has any claim to distinction. It was doubtless the wish to relieve the wants of the moment that led to the composition of most of the slighter pieces. Yet, though regularly under the necessity of earning his subsistence, Theobald seems, during at least the greater part of his life, to have been free from the pressure of actual need. 1 It is a common statement that these essays were originally published in ' Mist's Journal.' Indeed Nichols, in his ' Illustrations of the Literary History of the Eighteenth Century' (vol. ii. p. 715), says that they not only appeared in it, but appeared in 1726. It is sufiBcient to say that 'Mist's Journal-' was a weekly, and that 'The Censor' was published three times a week ; and farther tliat thirty numbers of ' The Censor' had been published before the end of June 1715, while the first number of 'Mist's Journal,' came out in December, 1716. 128 THE EARLY CAREER OF THEOBALD That his meaas were always limited, we can feel fairly- certain ; that at times he found himself in pecuniary straits, there is every reason to believe ; but what little evidence exists gives no countenance to the prevalent belief that he was ever subjected to the pressure of genuine poverty. Naturally he resorted to all sorts of expedients to help out his income. In particular he fol- lowed the general custom of his time in dedicating his productions to persons of wealth and station. Among them he clearly had some warm friends and patrons, and from them doubtless he received aid that contrib- uted materially to his support. Much unnecessary pity has indeed been wasted upon Theobald for the extent to which he has been supposed to be in straitened circumstances. That he should have been in them at all was lamentable because it had the effect of Iiindering him from carrying on the work for which he was peculiarly fitted. A poor man in one sense of the phrase he manifestly was, during his whole life. That condition was practically forced upon him by the character of the studies in which he was con- cerned. The pursuit of learning and the pursuit of wealth are, strictly speaking, incompatible ; and Theo- bald was too much devoted to the one to expect many favors from the other. Yet he was enabled to support a vrife and certainly one child. , Furthermore, the place of his residence and the length of time he spent in it are utterly inconsistent with the idea of indigence. At the beginning of the Shakespearean controversy his home was in Wyan's Court, Great Russell Street, Bloomsbury. There he spent the rest of his life. To 9 129 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE his house intending subscribers were asked to come to examine works for which proposals had been issued. There also they were to receive the volumes for which they had subscribed. A continuous residence for at least a score of years in a quarter of London not given over to the poverty-stricken must have demanded a fairly regular income, no matter how small. Such facts as these and others yet to be recited do not indeed prove him to have been well-to-do, but they utterly dispose of the frequent assumption that his condition was one of penury. Two subjects there were to which at this earlier period of his life he especially devoted himself ; and to one of them he remained faithful almost to the end of his days. For a time, however, his main interest seemed to lie in making versions of the Greek and Roman classics. He did something in this line; he purposed doing a great deal more. The account-book of the publisher Lintot, under date of May, 1713, records the payment to Theo- bald of several pounds for a translation of the Phaedo of Plato which was published that year.^ It further shows that he had entered into a contract to render the plays of iEschylus in blank verse. About a year later he had agreed with the same publisher to produce a translation of the ' Odyssey ' in the same measure, with explanatory notes; and also four specified tragedies of Sophocles. For every four hundred and fifty verses, with the accom- panying annotation, he was to receive the sum of fifty shillings. Further he was to render in ryme the satires 1 Nichols' ' Literary Anecdotes of the Eighteenth Century,' vol, viii. p. 301. 130 THE EARLY CAREER OF THEOBALD and epistles of Horace. In the case of this author for every one hundred and twenty verses he translated he was to be paid twenty-one shillings and sixpence. A line appears drawn through this contract as if for some reason the project had been abandoned. Its existence, however, makes clear that no poor opinion was enter- tained either of the abilities or the scholarship of Theo- bald ; for it is to be kept in mind that he was not then twenty-six years old. The translation of a single play of Sophocles is all of the magnificent programme then projected which was carried into execution. The most singular thing indeed about these undertakings is that Theobald did not pro- duce the work he had engaged to do, but on the other hand did produce works of the same character which so far as any evidence now exists, he was under no obliga- tion to do. He published versions of three plays of Sophocles, the Electra and Ajax in 1714 and the (Edipus Tyrannus in 1715. The last is the only one of the four which, according to his agreement with Lin tot, he was to render into English. Furthermore in 1715 he brought out versions of the Plutus and the Clouds pi Aristoph- anes. He made no translation of the satires and epistles of Horace ; but if contemporary evidence can be trusted, he produced, as if in place of it, a version of the Metamorphoses of Ovid. A statement to that effect is given in the account of his life contained in Jacob's ' Poetical Register,' above cited.^ It is further confirmed by a remark of Dennis which had appeared, as early as 1717, in his review of Pope's translation of Homer. The 1 Vol. ii. p. 211. 131 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE critic had been irritated by the attacks upon himself in ' The Censor ' and by the outspoken praise accoided to the version of the ' Iliad ' then in process of publication. He was not slow to retort in the genial tone prevalent in the criticism of that day. He spoke of Theobald as " a notorious idiot who had lately burlesqued the Metamor- phoses of Ovid by a vile translation." ^ One undertaking of Theobald's there was which has been made the pretext for casting utterly unfounded re- flections upon his course in relation to Pope. His inter- est in Greek literature naturally involved interest in its foremost poet. During the last years of the reign of Queen Anne, Homer had become the great subject of lit- erary conversation and controversy in consequence of Pope's projected version of the 'Iliad.' Theobald was naturally affected by a feeling so widely prevalent. In 1714 he published a critical discussion of the epic in question. The first part of Pope's translation of the ' Iliad ' had come from the publishing-house of Lintot in 1715. Not long after the same house issued a translation by Theobald of the first book of the ' Odyssey ' with notes. It seems to have been put forth as a sort of ex- periment, and was accompanied with proposals for bring- ing out by subscription a complete version of this epic.^ ' Kemarks upon Pope's Translation of Homer (1717), p. 9. ^ The pamphlet devoted to a critical discussion of the ' Iliad ' and the translation of the first book of the ' Odyssey ' I have never seen. Both seem to be exceedingly rare. Neither of them is to be found in the library of the British Museum or in the Bodleian. It will be noticed that Pope gives 1717 as the date of the publication of the latter. Nichols, in his list of the works printed by Bowyer, refers the appearance of the work to November, 1716. ('Literary Anecdotes,' etc. vol. i. p. 80.) It may be added that the translation of the Metamorphoses seems to have disap- 132 THE EARLY CAREER OF THEOBALD The scheme never went further. The necessary number of subscribers was clearly not secured. Knowledge of this projected translation has indeed so entirely disap- peared that most of those who are fairly familiar with the period are ignorant of the fact that it was ever even con- templated. A reference to it is found in ' The Dunoiad ' of 1729, in a note on Theobald, which has disappeared from modern editions. " He had once in mind," said Pope, " to translate the ' Odyssey,' the first book whereof was printed in 1717 by Lintot, and probably may yet be seen at his shop." ^ We have been told by an authority in general fairly trustworthy that the pamphlet by Theobald upon the ' Iliad ' and the proposed translation of the ' Odyssey ' are " circumstances which sufficiently account for his situation in the ' Dunciad.' " ^ They had nothing to do with it whatever. In this instance the assertion is due purely to ignorance. But it has been Theobald's peculiar fortune that whenever knowledge of any event in his career is lacking, an attempt has always been made to supply its place by derogatory suggestion. Prejudice has never permitted a resort to the natural and indeed necessary interpretation. Disraeli in his ' Quarrels of Authors ' professed to be in doubt whether Theobald's translations were made from the original Greek. He came to the conclusion that they must be, from the cancelled entries which have already been mentioned. peared as effectually as the other two works just mentioned. It is not found in either of the two great English libraries, at least under the name of Theobald. 1 Dunciad, Book J, line 106 (quarto of 1729) 2 Nichols' ' ^literary Anecdotes,' vol. i. p. 80. 133 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE His ignorance of the man's classical scholarship, which far exceeded his own, might be pardoned, though there was no necessity of exhibiting it ; but the surmise which followed was as gratuitous as it was ridiculous. " Per- haps," he added, " Lintot submitted to pay Theobald for not doing the ' Odyssey ' when Pope undertook it." It is enough to say of this suggestion that the trans- lator of the ' Iliad ' had not at the time the slightest idea of becoming a translator of the other epic ; nor did he engage in the latter task until Theobald's project had been so long given up that it was practically forgotten. At the same time it is more than likely that the inferior author's willingness, if not desire, to produce a transla- tion of the ' Odyssey ' was stimulated by, if it did not owe its origin to, the interest which had been aroused by Pope's version of the ' Iliad.' To attempt something of the same nature as that undertaken by the first poet of the age was a natural ambition on the part of every aspirant for reputation in letters. So far as knowledge of the ancient languages was concerned Theobald was inconceivably better equipped for the task than his great contemporary. The infinitely more important element of poetic genius was lacking entirely. This readers of every stamp were certain to recognize. It cannot, consequently, excite any surprise that the public which had welcomed Pope's projected translation with avid- ity should have been disposed to look with absolute indifference upon the new enterprise recommended to its consideration. A few translations contained in a miscellany called 'The Grove' complete all of Theobald's attempts of 134 THE EAliLY CAREER OF THEOBALD this character which ever saw the light. This work was brought out in 1721. The versions he contrib- uted to it from the pseudo-Musseus, from Sophocles, -^schylus, and Theocritus ended his published efforts as a translator. It was not in this way that he could hope to gain distinction. Yet the desire lasted a good while after every promise of success failed. There was, in particular, one undertaking of this nature in which he was interested for a period of years, though perhaps intermittently. This was a translation of the seven ex- tant plays of -iEschylus. It was a task for which he would seem to us to have been pre-eminently unfitted. Yet if we can infer what the whole would have been from the version of two ptxssages contributed by him to the periodical essays he wrote, ^ it would have been, though not a great, a reputable piece of work. Further- more, we have the assurance of a thoroughly competent critic that the version which he actually made of the three tragedies of Sophocles was "in free and spirited blank verse " and that his version of the^two comedies of Aristophanes was "in vigorous and racy colloquial prose." 2 To the projected translation of J^^schylus he certainly devoted more or less of the time and attention of years. There seems little reason to doubt that so far as prepa- ration for the press was concerned, it was fully com- pleted. That he had it in mind as early as 1713 has been shown by the entry in Lintot's account-book. The brief contemporary notice of his life, which was 1 Censor, No 60, March 9, 1717. 2 Cliurton Collins, iu 'Diet, of Nat. Biography,' vol. Ivi. p. 118. 135 The text of shakespeare probably submitted to his revision, states definitely that the work was then finished. He issued proposals for its publication, which was fixed for April, 1724. In 1726, at the conclusion of his ' Shakespeare Restored ' he begged the pardon of his subscribers for the delay. The best apology he could make was that in the interval he had been at the expense of copper-plates to be prefixed to each tragedy, and had also been engaged in a complete history of the ancient stage as a prefatory disser- tation. The failure to bring out the work was pretty certainly due to his inability to secure an adequate subscription to meet the expense of publication. If difficult before the appearance of ' The Dunciad,' after that event it practically became impossible. Dennis in his criticism upon that satire incidentally gives us to understand that there had not been sufiicient encouragement to carry through the project. His essay was dedicated to Theo- bald himself. Among other things it contained remarks upon this very point. " If your translation of ^schy- lus," he said, addressing him, " is equal to the specimen which I have seen of ifc, of which I make no doubt, it may make him," — that is. Pope, — " blush for his trans- lation of Homer." Dennis then referred to the failure of both Theobald and Ambrose Philips to receive the support of the public in their projected undertakings. "If neither of you," he continued, "have had a sub- scription adequate to your merits, it is because in this wise and judicious age, the age of operas, of ' Beggars' Operas,' of ' Dunciads,' and ' Ilurlothrumbos,' 'tis not in the nature of things at present, and consequently an im- 136 THE EARLY CAREER OF THEOBALD possibility that any author can have a generous subscrip- tion to a work that highly deserves it." Excuses of this sort did not avail Theobald against the attacks of his implacable enemy. After the appear- ance in 1726 of his review of Pope's edition of Shake- speare constant sneers were indulged in at the poetical ability displayed in this version of a classic of which the censurer had never read a word. " His own cold Jilschylus " is the phrase applied in the original ' Dun- ciad' to the expected translation.* To a line announcing the approach of " another iEschylus " he appended in the quarto of 1729 a note describing the terror wrought by the acting of one of the pieces of the Greek trage- dian. He then proceeded to make some comments upon the proposed version which were not calculated to promote its success. " Tibbald," wrote Pope, " is trans- lating this author : he printed a specimen of him many years ago, of which I only remember that the first note contains some comparison between Prometheus and Christ crucified." ^ This was designed to excite against the work religious prejudice. There is no need of call- ing attention now, nor was there then, to the gross unfairness of such criticism; but carrying with it the authority of the first writer of the age, it was none the less effective. Pope further taunted Theobald with his failure to bring out works for which he had secured subscriptions. 1 Dunciad, Book i., line 200 (editions of 1728). The line is not in modern editions. 2 Dnnciad, Book iii., line 311 (editions of 1729); modern editions, line 313. The part of the note here quoted was dropped in the ' Dunciad ' of 1743, and is not found in modern editions. 137 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE In this same edition of ' The Dunciad ' insinuations to that effect were made. " He had been," wrote Pope under the signature of Scriblerus, " (to use an expression of our Poet) about j^schylus for ten years, and had received subscriptions for the same, but then went about other books." ^ When it seemed certain that Theobald was to publish a full commentary upon Shakespeare according to the scheme then proposed, these attacks increased in virulence. They may have hindered him from carrying his desire into effect, but they did not destroy the desire itself. To a late period he clung to the hope of bringing out his version of jEschylus. In a note in his edition of Shakespeare ^ he discussed the liberties taken with chronology by the English dramatist and adduced numerous examples of the same practice derived from other poets ancient and modern. " The anachronisms of J5schylus," he observed, "I shall reserve to my edition of that poet." ' Dunciad, Book i., line 210 (editions of 1729). This note is not in modern editions. 2 Vol. vii. p. 44. 138 CHAPTER VIII Theobald's dkamatic ventures The version of ^schylus, whether fully prepared for the press or not, never passed beyond the stage of manuscript. Nor indeed was it in translation from the ancient drama that Theobald's greatest interest really lay ; it was in the modern drama. He appears to have been intimate with John Rich, who on the death of his father Christopher in November, 1714, came into the proprietorsliip of the play-house just erected in Lincoln's Inn Fields. It is not impossible — though no evidence whatever exists on the point — that it was his friendship with the son that led to the father's acceptance of his first play for performance at Drury Lane. At all events there is no question as to his close connection for a number of years with the new owner of the new theater. By Mestayer, a, writer with whom he shortly after came into conflict, he was styled its deputy manager.^ Dennis, a little later still, referred to him as having from " an under-spur-leather of the law " become an " under- strapper of the play-house." ^ Certain it is that he did not disdain to assist Rich in the preparation of the 1 Preface to Mestayer's 'Perfidioua Brother/ 1716. 2 Remarks on Pope's Homer, 1717, p. 9. 139 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE operas, masques, and pantomimes for which this theater in the course of time became famous. In their fondness for productions of this nature the public of the first half of the eighteenth century appar- ently went mad. Pantomime in particular had been developed by Rich on a great scale. He himself, under the name of Lun, took the principal part in the repre- sentation. The ability displayed by this actor-manager, especially in the character of Harlequin, seems, if we can trust the concurrent voice of his contemporaries, to have been almost marvellous. Entertainments of the sort met indeed with such success that the rival theatre of Drury Lane was forced to adopt them also. One result of this was that for no inconsiderable while the legitimate drama held the second place. In truth Theo- bald, in dedicating to Rich the volume containing his first emendations of the text of the greatest of Enghsh playwrights, remarked that it seemed a strange thing that in attempting to restore Shakespeare he should address the work to the one man who had done a very great deal towards banishing him from the stage and confining acquaintance with him to the closet. In the preparation of these operas and pantomimes Theobald was largely concerned. There are about half a score of them to which his name is appended as the author of the libretto, or for which he is held responsible. These performances had in all cases a good deal of a run, and in some cases a very great run, much to the real or simulated indignation of the lovers of the regular drama. One of them, entitled ' The Rape of Proserpine,' was brought out in 1725. It was received with such favor 140 THEOBALD'S DRAMATIC VENTURES that many men saw in its success the decay of the stage, and censured bitterly every one concerned in its produc- tion and representation. Of course Theobald suffered in the general denunciation. Still, the taste for these entertainments lasted not only during the whole of his life but long after. Naturally pieces of this character had no permanent value. It was not upon their literarj^ merits that they depended for success, but upon their spectacular and vocalic. There is, therefore, nothing surprising in the fact that the matter Theobald furnished belongs to the lowest class of middling poetry. Now and then a good or even fine line shows itself, and per- haps receives undue praise from the contrast with the mass of commonplace in the midst of which it is em- bedded. One of the last of the operas with the author- ship of which he is justly or unjustly credited, was entitled ' Orpheus and Eurydice ' and was brought out in 1739. It is a curious coincidence that the second line of a couplet contained in it — " By rigid death's remorseless doom, She '3 snatched away in beauty's bloom — " corresponds almost word for word with a line beginning one of Lord Byron's ' Hebrew Melodies.' While it is not impossible, it is exceedingly improbable that Byron had ever read this opera or had heard the verses just quoted from it. It was not to these dramatic trifles, however, that Theobald confined his attention. He was fired with an ambition for distinction in fields for any serious success in which he was totally unfitted. He did not escape 141 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE ,the temptation which beset so many mediocre poets dur- ing the hundred years following the Restoration, of re- modelling and adapting a play of Shakespeare. The one he selected was ' Richard II.' Unlike certain others, this alteration failed to meet with the permanent success which it did not deserve. Still, it had a run of seven nights when it was first performed at the theater in Lincoln's Inn Fields in December, 1719.^ After that it was never heard of again. About fourteen years later he tried his fortune anew in an adaptation of Webster's ' Duchess of Malfi.' This was brought out in April, 1733, under the title of 'The Fatal Secret.' It was acted but four times.2 As Theobald tells us himself in the pref- ace to the play, when published in 1735, it " was praised and forsaken." There was another tragedy of which he was the author that did not meet with even as good a fort- une as this. It bore the title of ' The Death of Hanni- bal.' Though written and prepared for the stage, as early certainly as the beginning of the third decade of the century, it was never either acted or printed.^ So far as can be judged it was wholly his own composition. If so, it and his earliest piece are the only plays of importance in which he was concerned as sole author. His other productions were built upon the foundations laid by some one else. Two of them deserve attention, one for rea- sons personal to himself, the other for its connection with Shakespeare. The first here referred to exposed him to the suspicion 1 Genest's ' English Stage,' vol. iii. p. 32. 2 Ibid. vol. iii. p. 392. ^ Giles Jacob's ' Poetical Register,' vol. i. p. 259. 142 THEOBALD'S DRAMATIC VENTURES and in fact to the direct cliarge of dishonesty. A trag- edy, purporting to be his, was brought out at the tlieater in Lincoln's Inn Fields in February, 1716. It bore the title of ' The Perfidious Brother.' On the stage it proved then a failure ; it is just as much a failure now in the closet. The story upon which it is based is a peculiarly unwholesome one, and there is nothing in the treatment to make amends for its disagreeableness. The plot bears a somewhat close resemblance to that of ' The Unnatural Brother ' of Filmer, which had met with deserved failure in 1096.1 If modelled upon tliat, as seems likely, it was no improvement upon it. But whoever wrote it, had Othello in his eye. The perfidious brother, Roderick, is a feeble copy of lago, possessing his wickedness but lacking his intellect. Indeed it is hard to consider the villain a villain, his actions are so persistently those of a fool. Nor does the corresponding Sebastian, the other principal character, exhibit sufficient sense to make him an object of interest. The failure of the tragedy in rep- resentation gives the impression of the existence of a good deal of discernment on the part of the audience. It is assuredly the worst piece of dramatic work in which Theobald was ever concerned, and this is saying a good deal. In the preface to the printed edition he expressed regret that it had not answered so well to Mr. Rich as he had hoped. He professed himself unable to account for its being so generally approved in the town and so little regarded on the stage. The modern reader finds no difficulty whatever in understanding the latter state- ment, but much difficulty in believing the former. 1 Genest's ' English Stage,' vol. ii. p. 1 14. 143 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE In this same preface Theobald defended himself from the charge contained in a story industriously spread in one part of the town — chiefly, he said, among the me- chanics — that the drama was not really his own ; that, as a matter of fact, he had had no hand in it beyond gi\dng it a general supervision, and here and there the correction of an odd word. This he denied. He ac- knowledged that the story upon which the plot of the play was founded had been brought to Mm by a watch- maker, named Mestayer, and had been wrought up by that person into something designed to be called tragedy. He had agreed to make it fit for the stage. With that object in view, he had toiled at it for almost four months without interruption. As a result of his labors he had so thoroughly recast the piece that he considered that he had created it anew. Mestayer was far from holding this opinion of the alteration. The following year he carried out his threat of printing the piece, and if we may trust his assertion, printed it exactly as it had come from his hands in the first place. It was accompanied with a far from flattering dedication to Theobald him- self, and the comments contained in the preface upon his proceedings were not calculated to give an exalted conception of his character. With our present knowledge of the circumstances it cannot be established with certainty that Mestayer's printed piece was the actual original, though the proba- bilities favor this view. If so, there is no question that it furnished most of the material upon which Theobald's version was built, and that the names of creator and reviser should have appeared in connection with it both 144 THEOBALD'S DRAMATIC VENTURES when performed and when published. At the same time the original, if the original, was an impossible play for either acting or reading. Theobald's version, however poor as poetry, was at least verse, and not prose. No one would fancy that Mestayer's version was anything but prose, — and the wretohedest of prose at that, — were it not that capital letters appear at the beginning of every line. The exact facts in the case are never likely to be ascertained ; in truth, they are hardly worth the trouble of ascertaining. It may be regarded, how- ever, as a point in Theobald's favor that contemporary hostility seems very rarely, if ever, to have fastened any reproach upon him for his conduct in this matter. Pope, his most inveterate enemy, never brought against him — at least in direct terms — the charge of appropri- ating another man's work ; and any possible accusation or plausible insinuation to his critic's discredit was not likely to escape the poet's active malevolence. The only reference to this transaction which is found in his acknowledged writings is contained in a note to a line of the first book of ' The Dunciad ' in its original form, which reads as follows: " Now flames old Memnon, now Kodrigo burns.'' Rodrigo is here the Roderick of 'The Perfidious Brother,' " a play written," remarked Pope, " between T. and a watchmaker." ^ The other piece with which Theobald's name is con- nected occupies a more important place in the history of 1 Dunciad, Book 1, 1. 198, ed. of 1728; 1. 208, quarto of 1729. In modern editions The Cid and Perolla, Book 1, 1. 250, take the place o^ Memnon and Rodrigo. The note has accordingly disappeare4. 10 145 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE Shakespearean controversy. In 1727 he announced that he had come into the possession of a play of the great dramatist which had never been printed. It was entitled ' Double Falsehood, or the Distressed Lovers.' This, he revised and adapted for the stage. At this time there seems to have existed an estrangement between Theo- bald and Rich. The piece, in consequence, was not brought out at the theater in Lincoln's Inn Fields, but at Drury Lane. It was first acted on the 13th of De- cember of the year just named. The curiosity of the town had been excited and stimulated by methods which, however common now, were then unusual. No- tices of the coming production appeared in newspapers some days before its actual performance. Attention was directed to. the question of its alleged authorship, and the pubUc was called upon to give its decision. The matter naturally aroused interest. The play met with what was deemed at the time a distinct success. It had a run of ten nights ^ and before the season closed it was performed at least twice more. For benefits it was selected not unfrequently during the eighteenth cen- tury, down even to near its close. As a reading play, it also met with a good deal of favor. A royal license dated December 5, 1727, was issued giving to Theobald the sole right of printing and publishing the piece for 1 " By the unanimous applause with which this play was received by considerable audiences for ten nights, the true friends of the drama liad the satisfaction of seeing that author (i. a., Shakespeare) restored to his rightful possession of the stage," etc., etc. — From a letter signed Dramat- icus to the ' Weekly Journal or British Gazetteer,' No. 142, Feb. 10, 1728. According to Genest, the play ran from Dec. 13 to Dec. 22, aud Dec. 26 was the tenth night, 146 THEOBALD'S DRAMATIC VENTURES tlie term of fourteen years. These are the simple facts connected with the production of the play. The copy- right Theobald sold in July, 1728, for one hundred guineas.! As regards its authenticity, public opinion was divided from the outset. Surprising as it may seem to most men now, Theobald's reputation as a Shakespearean scholar and critic, at the time of the production of the play, stood higher than that of any one. Naturally his opinion as to its genuineness carried great weight. Still, on the part of many, and probably of the large majority, there was little belief that this particular drama was written by Shakespeare. On the part of some, there was a strong suspicion and indeed a not uncommon assertion that it was the actual production of the pretended re- viser. So wide-spread became this view, so frequent was the insinuation to this effect that, in the preface to the play, when printed, Tlieobald felt himself under the necessity of repelling the charge. In the dedication of it to Bubb Dodington, he referred to the doubt ex- pressed by many that a manuscript of one of Shake- speare's works could have remained so long unknown and unnoticed, and to the further intimation that he himself had a much greater concern in it than that of mere editor. Yet the play, he added, had been received with universal applause. These unbelievers, therefore, while admitting that they were pleased, and yet imply- ing that they were imposed upon, were paying him a greater compliment than they designed or he deserved. 1 See E. Hood in 'Gentleman's Magazine,' March, 1824, vol. xciv. p. 223. 147 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE Notwithstanding his denial, the belief that the work was a forgery of his own continued to prevail. Both at the time itself and later, not merely insinuations but direct charges were made to that effect. This was true, especially on the part of the adherents of Pope ; and the less they knew, the more positive they were on the point. Take as a specimen of the assaults not unfre- quently made the following lines from a poem written " by a young gentleman of Cambridge " : " See Theobald leaves the lawyer's gainful train, To wrack with poetry his tortured brain ; Fii-ed or not fired, to write resolves with rage, And constant pores o'er Shakespeare's sacred page ; — Then starting cries, I something will be thought, I '11 write — then — boldly swear 't was Shakespeare wrote. Strange ! he in poetry no forgery fears. That knows so well in law he'd lose his ears." ^ The desire of saying something novel about Shake- speare — the prolific source of the extravagant, the ab- surd, and even the idiotic — has at times taken the shape of forgery. Experience has shown us that this is a temptation which only the stoutest virtue can resist. The antecedent and apparently inherent unreasonable- ness of any one ascribing a play of his own composition to the dramatist accordingly assumes, in the light of what has happened, almost the nature of probability. At the same time, there is no real reason for attribut- ing the authorship of the piece to Theobald, though as 1 From ' The Modern Poets,' by a Young Gentleman of Cambridge, in 'Grub-Street Journal,' No. 98, November 18, 1731. Keprinted in ' ppntleman's Magazine' for November, 1731. 148 THEOBALD'S DRAMATIC VENTURES the manuscript has never been either produced or repro- duced, we are unable to tell how much belongs to the original text and how much was added or altered in the revision. There are in the play palpable imitations of passages in Shakespeare's conceded works. Still, just as clear imitations of the dramatist can be found in his immediate successors, notably, for instance, in Mass- inger. At the outset it can be said of ' Double False- hood ' that it has many of the marks of an Elizabethan play, though it may perhaps be further admitted that there is nothing so distinctive, so characteristic of the period assigned to it that it could not have been produced by a clever copyist, famihar with its literature. Nor is there the slightest improbability in the play having been ascribed in the manuscript to Shakespeare. In that pecu- liarity it unquestionably had many companions. Three so designated, we have seen were included in the list of plays which met their fate at the hands of that great destroyer of our early drama, Mr. Warburton's cook. Nor is it in the least likely, if the assertion were untrue, that Theobald would have ventured to say, as he did in his preface, that one of the three manuscripts of the play in his possession was in the handwriting of Downes, the prompter. Downes was still living in the early part of the eighteenth century. His handwriting must have been well-known to some of the actors be- longing to the Drury Lane Theater, to whom the work was submitted; and they above all others would be specially interested in the detection of a forgery. All these assertions could have been disposed of easily at the time, if they were untrue. In that case, they THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE pretty certainly would have been. We can, conse- quently, feel safe in dismissing the supposition that the piece was the composition of Theobald himself. But, while it is reasonable to maintain that he was not its author, it is quite another thing to maintain that its author was Shakespeare. The internal evidence is am- ply sufficient of itself to dispose of an unsupported statement of this sort. There is scarcely a tiuce of the great dramatist in it, even of his best or worst manner. ' Double Falsehood ' is a respecktble production, neither better nor worse than scores of pieces of the period to which it is ascribed, though by a concurrence of circum- stances one modified line of it, as we shall see later, has been raised to the rank of a stock quotation. Nor to counterbalance the internal evidence that it is not Shakespeare's, has there ever been furnished any ex- ternal evidence that it is his. In truth, what facts exist for the determination of its possible date are against any such assumption. The play is founded upon a tale con- tained in Don Quixote. Shelton's translation of that work — the first translation of it ever made in English — was not published until after the time Shakespeare is generally conceded to have left London and taken up his residence in Stratford. To offset this, Theobald in- forms us of a tradition, which he had received from a nobleman who had supplied him with one of his copies, that it was given by the poet "to a natural daughter of his, for whose sake he wrote it in the time of his re- tirement from the stage." The tradition about the gift is as worthy of credence as the tradition about the nat> ural daughter ; though were the story true, we could be 150 THEOBALD'S DRAMATIC VENTURES somewhat consoled by the character of the piece for what has seemed. Shakespeare's too early abandonment ,of theatrical production. Men have now forgotten all about the play ; but dur- ing the eighteenth century the question of its authorship was a subject of more or less discussion. Farmer reached very positive conclusions in regard to the matter. It could not be Shakespeare's, he said, " because in it aspect was accented on the first syllable and not on the final one." According to him that method of pro- nouncing the word did not exist till the middle of the seventeenth century. The observation was true of Shakespeare so far as Shakespeare's practice has been preserved ; it was not true of that of all his contempora- ries. Farmer had no hesitation in ascribing the piece to Shirley. It bore, according to him, every mark of that dramatist's style and manner. On the other hand, this same sort of internal evidence convinced Malone that it was the work of Massinger. No one thought of ascrib- ing it to Theobald, it being the proper view to hold him utterly incapable of the poetic ability displayed in its creation. Gifford, who had an exceedingly favorable opinion of the play, would liave denied his authorship of it on that ground alone. " Pope and his little knot of critics," he wrote, " affected to believe " that it was a production of Theobald's, not seeming to see the honor they thereby did him. In a comment on a line in Massinger's ' Picture,' " Rich suits, the gay comparisons of pride," he pointed out that the use, common in our old drama- tists, of comparison for caparison had been one of the 151 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE words in ' Double Falsehood ' with which the writer of ' The Dunciad ' and his partisans affected to make merry.^ The employment of it in this signification, he implied, was evidence of the genuineness of the play, just as the censure of it was proof of the ignorance of the critic. One further incident in Theobald's life is to be re- corded. In September, 1730, Eusden, the poet laureate, died. The post at this time had lost all its dignitJ^ The filling of it had come to be and to be considered nothing but a job. The last thing thought of either by recipient or bestower, in connection with it, was the possession of poetical genius. Theobald sought it, evi- dently unawed by the attack which had already been made upon him in ' The Dunciad,' or by the perception he must have had of the fact that if he secured the post he would be made not merely the further object of Pope's venomous satire, but would become the common butt of every poetaster in the land. His pursuit of the place, however, was not due in the least, as he said himself, to any vanity, but to a desire to assist his fortunes. ^ He had now become profoundly interested in Shakespearean investigations. He was engaged in bringing out a com- mentary upon the poet. The one tiling for which he longed was a competency sufficient to enable him to de- vote himself uninterruptedly to studies which had begun to absorb all his thoughts and demanded for their successful prosecution all his time. There is no question that his name was seriously con- 1 Gifford's Massinger, vol. iii. p. 154. 2 Nichols, vol. ii. p. 617, December, 1730. 152 THEOBALD'S DRAMATIC VENTURES sidered for the appointment. A poem of one of Pope's partisans, which, though published the following year, was written before the matter was decided, specifically mentioned Blackmore, Philips, Theobald, and Duck as candidates for the laureateship, and as possessed of merits so similar that it was impossible to tell which of them was Ukely to secure the coveted position from the Lord Chamberlain. Everything would be uncertain " Till deep discerning Grafton should declare." ^ Theobald had the support of many persons of influence, including the prime-minister. Sir Robert Walpole. For a time he apparently cherished high hopes of success. But after some weeks of fruitless attendance he had the mortification to find himself supplanted by CoUej"- Gibber. The choice was an excellent one. If the best poet could not be had, the next best for such a post was the worst poet ; and poor a versifier as Theobald was. Gibber was probably the wretchedest that could be found among the men of the time possessing any sort of ability whatever. It was in one way undoubtedly fortunate for Theo- bald's fame that he failed. If the hostility of Pope could and did succeed in fastening upon him the reputation of dulness in a pursuit in which he exhibited conspicuous keenness and ability, it is no difficult matter to imagine what further associations would have come to be con- nected with his name, where the best he could have ac- complished would have been worthless. Not but he was fully the equal of two or three who had already worn the laurel, and of others who were yet to wear it before the 1 Harlequin Horace, by J. Miller (1731), p. 14. 153 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE eighteenth century expired. But none of them would ever have been lifted into the unpleasant prominence he would have attained from the unrelenting enmity of the most influential author of the time. Nor would anjrthing he could have produced iu the capacity of laureate have brought him credit with the unprejudiced. That could only be secured by what he had accomplished or was to accomplish in other fields. The future efforts of his life had already been determined by the publication of a work of a character entirely different from anything which he himself or any one else had yet produced. Beside it everything to which he had previously directed his attention was of subsidiary importance. With the appearance of this work begins the first and on the whole the fiercest of the controversies which have sprung up in regard to the text of Shakespeare. 154 CHAPTER IX SHAKESPEAKE RESTORED On the last day of March, 1726, appeared Theobald's first attempt at textual criticism. It came out, as appar- ently did everything he wrote, under his own name. The full title of the work was ' Shakespeare Restored : or, a Specimen of the many Errors, as well committed, as un- amended, bj'^ Mr. Pope in his late Edition of this Poet. Designed not only to correct the said Edition, but to restore the True Reading of Shakespeare in all the Editions ever yet publish'd.' This is the earliest of a long line of similar ti'catises which have had the same end in view. It was the pioneer work in a path which has since been trodden by thousands of feet. Yet of the honor, which in the case of other subjects has been will- ingly accorded to the pioneer, its author has been studi- ously defrauded. To the men of his own age the course he took seemed an innovation and came as a surprise. At the immediate moment it conferred upon him a wide- spread and well-deserved reputation. The desert still exists, but no longer the repute. It is well within bounds to say that his treatise surpasses in interest and importance any single one of its numerous suc- cessors. Yet it has been systematically decried, even by the men who have been under most obligation to 155 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE it, and upon its author has fallen an obloquy which time is never likely to clear away. The volume entitled ' Shakespeare Restored ' is known, even by sight, to so few save special students that a detailed description of its contents becomes advisable. It was a large, thin quarto, designedly made to corre- spond in size witli the six quarto volumes of Pope's edition. It consisted of one hundred and ninety-four pages, of which the first one hundred and thirty-two were devoted almost exclusively to the consideration of the text of Hamlet. But an appendix of over sixty pages followed in finer type. In this, specimens were given of corrections of passages taken from thirty-two of the other plays. In fact the only ones in Pope's edition which did not receive some sort of illustrative comment were ' The Two Gentlemen of Verona,' ' As You Like It,' and ' Twelfth Night.' The emendations were of all sorts. They touched the pettiest as well as the most important matters. Naturally they were of varying merit. Illustrations were given of false point- ings which were subversive of the sense, of omission of words, and even of lines necessary to it, of passages put into the margin which were essential to the comprehen- sion of what preceded or followed. The work in conse- quence was mainly taken up with restoring the text where both Pope's care or carelessness had perverted the meaning. To Hamlet ninety-seven corrections pur- ported to be given, though the number was really some- what larger. The emendations to the other plays, which were contained in the appendix, were naturally more numerous. Of these there were one hundred and 156 SHAKESPEARE RESTORED seven nominally; actually there were one hundred and seventeen. As the work was mainly given up to pointing out the errors in Pope's edition, and incidentally in Eowe's, few of the corrections, taken as they were from the early authorities, were Theobald's own contributions to the establishment of the text. But though these were few, they were important. The constructive criticism was of even higher value than the destructive. In this volume appeared some of those emendations so pecu- liarly happy that they have been adopted almost univer- sally in modern editions. Such instances are always rare. Far from numerous have been proposed changes in the text of Shakespeare which have commanded the assent of every one. Besides the chosen few who on principle wiU never agree with the majority, there is no absurdity, however great, no interpretation involved by a particular reading, however strained or unnatural, which some men will not prefer to any alteration, how- ever slight. Theobald has been more fortunate than most. In regard to several of the emendations first put forth in this volume there has been substantial, even if not perfect unanimity. These alterations too are of interest for the light they throw upon the abilities of the man, in view of the way in which he has been com- monly spoken of down even to this period. The emen- dations here proposed were all his own ; and though some of those produced later equalled them in impor- tance, none surpassed them in felicity and ingenuity. They may be said, in truth, to suffer to some extent from their inevitableness. They belong to that class of correc- 157 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE tions in regard to which the wonder is, as soon as they are made, how they could ever have missed being made. Certain of these are worth noting. About the change in 'Hamlet' ^ of "pious and sanctified bonds" into " pious and sanctified bawds," there has been difference of opin- ion; but as a general rule later editors have admitted this emendation into the text. But there has been sub- stantial unanimity in the adoption of ' thirdborough ' for ' headborough ' in the Induction to the ' Taming of the Shrew ' ; of the representation of Alcides being beaten by his ' page ' instead of his ' rage ' in the ' Mer- chant of Venice ' ; ^ of 'I prate ' in the speech of Cor- iolanus ^ to his mother, instead of ' I pray ; ' of having " scotched the snake " in ' Macbeth,' * instead of having " scorched it ; " of " the ne'er lust-wearied Antony " in Pompey's speech in ' Antony and Cleopatra,' ^ in place of " the near lust wearied Antony ; " and in the same play the description of the flag or rush " lackeying " the varying tide instead of ' lacking ' it.^ It requires in- deed a good deal of dulness to believe that emenda- tions such as these — and their number could easily be increased — are the emendations of a dull man or of one whose most distinguishing characteristic is mere plodding industry. If they seem easy to us, now that the way has been shown, they did not seem easy once. They assuredly escaped the attention of the first two editors, neither of whom has ever been charged with slowness of perception. In fact, in the case of the example last mentioned, 'lacking' had been changed 1 Act i., scene 3. 2 Act ii., scene 1. ^ Act v., scene 3. * Act iii., scene 2. ^ Act ii., scene 1. ^ Act i., scene 4. 158 SHAKESPEARE RESTORED by Pope to 'lashing,' thus getting out of one diffi- culty by plunging into another. To none of the alterations just recited has modern scholarship, as distinguished from personal preference, taken any exception save in one instance. This is to tlie substitution of ' scotch ' for ' scorch ' in ' Macbeth.' But even here it contents itself with showing that in the meaning there found ' scorch ' and ' scotch ' are merely variant forms of the same word. Consequently there was no need of making any emendation whatever. So there was not from the point of view of present lin- guistic investigation ; from the point of view of general comprehension there was a good deal. Tlie fact just stated was something that no one of Theobald's gen- eration could be expected to know. It is probably not going too far to say that it was one which no one did know then or could have known. Even now it is known to but few. Under the circumstances, there- fore, the slight change made may be deemed justifiable, even from the standpoint of strictest adherence to the text. Had it not been effected, liad the original form been retained, an erroneous interpretation would have fastened itself upon the passage and would have be- come embedded in the popular conception of it. As a result, for more than a century and a half its mean- ing would have been wholly misunderstood. Theobald saved for the reader the genuine sense of the phrase with the slightest possible disturbance of the form of the word. He comprehended what his author wanted to say, even if he did not comprehend his way of say- ing it, if it were certainly his way of saying it. Scorch 159 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE in this sense of ' scotch ' has never been common in any period of English literature. Even here it is easier to believe it a typographical error than the actual form used by the author. This work furthermore is of interest not merely in the history of Shakespearean investigation but in the history of modern scholarship. It has the distinction of being, as Theobald justly claimed, "the first essay of literal criticism upon any author in the English tongue."^ It was the earliest attempt to apply to a classic of our own language the methods which had been employed in establishing the text of Greek and Latin classics. It was at that time not only an un- tried but even an unheard-of proceeding. The success which Theobald met with was due to the thorough- ness of his scholarship. With all the disadvantages under which he labored — and as we shall see later, these were incalculably great — he hit upon the right road. He both pointed out and exemplified the proper method of correcting the text. If he set out to make an alteration, he supported the change, whenever pos- sible, by citation of extracts in which the new word or phrase introduced was shown to have been used else- where in the same way. These extracts were taken whenever possible, from Shakespeare, but sometimes from other dramatists of his time. No unauthorized as- sertions, no random conjectures took the place of inves- tigation. In short, his method was the method of a scholar, and wherever he erred, it was the error of a scholar, and not of a hap-hazard guesser. His work 1 Shakespeare Restored, p. 193, 160 SHA KESPEA RE E ES TOR ED and his rival's represent indeed the two kinds of emen- dations of Shakespeare's text which have been practised since his day. Every commentator belongs to the school of Theobald or of Pope. No one would entertain any question now as to which was the correct method to follow. Several examples have already been given of the acu- men displayed by Theobald in hitting upon a desirable alteration. They involve the least possible and yet most probable change required to convert into good sense what had seemed incapable of affording any satis- factory meaning. As an illustration both of his sagacity and his method, it is worth while to give here in full the history of what is probably the most famous single emendation to which the text of Shakespeare has ever been subjected; for while the result is known to all, only special students of the subject are acquainted with the process by which it was reached. From such a par- ticular recital too, one gains a conception, such as no general statements can convey, of the condition of the original and of the ingenuity which has been brought to bear upon its restoration ; for it is concerned with a passage which has the appearance of being corrupted out of all comprehension by some blunder of the type-setters. What to us is of further interest is the illustration it furnishes of the difference in spirit and method with which Theobald and Pope approached the rectification of passages obviously erroneous. In the historic drama of 'Henry V.,' the death-bed scene of Sir John Falstaff is described by Mrs. Quickly. Before quoting any of her words it is necessary to ob- serve that this play was first printed in quarto during 11 161 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE Shakespeare's lifetime and. consequently before it came out in the folio of 1623. Between the text of these two editions there are great differences. The folio has double the number of lines which are found in the quarto. About the latter indeed there is a very general agreement among commentators that it is a pretty fla- grant specimen of the stolen and surreptitious copies of which Heming and Condell had complained. No one has ever pretended that Shakespeare had anything what- ever to do with its publication. The onlj- way to explain its existence has been to suppose that it was secured for the pirates who printed it by a short-hand writer who was possessed of phenomenal ignorance, or who in this instance encountered unusual difficulties in the practice of his profession. Such as it is, however, it can be deemed one of the two original authorities for the text ; but after what has just been said, it is manifest that the folio of 1623 is the only one to be seriously regarded. In this latter some of the circumstances attending the death of Falstaff are recounted in the foUowine words, in which the original orthography and punctuation are here preserved : " A made a finer end, and went away and it had been anj' Christome Child : a parted ev'n just between Twelve and One, ev'n at the turning o' th' Tyde : for after I saw him fumble with the Sheets, and play with Flowers, and smile upon his fingers end, I knew there was but one way ; for his Nose was as sharpe as a Pen, and a Table of green fields." It was the last words here cited which caused trouble — " his nose was as sharp as a pen and a table of green 162 SHA KESPEA RE RESTORED fields." What possible sense could be made out of them ? What is a table of green fields ? What sort of a nose is it that is like such a table ? Here, in the eyes of some, the imperfect pirated quarto of 1600 came to the relief of the despairing commentator. In that the sentence ended with the words, " his nose was as sharp as a pen." The " table of green fields " made no appearance at all. But it was not an easy matter to find an excuse for drop- ping the phrase. There was the apparently insuperable difficulty that the folio in which it was contained fur- nished a text incomparably superior to the quarto from which it was absent. On the mere authoiity of the latter, words could not well be thrown out which were found in the former. It was Pope who set out to answer any possible objection to the omission of the passage. In the following way he explained how this incompre- hensible clause happened to be introduced into Dame Quickly's speech. " These words, ' and a table of green fields,' " he wrote, " are not to be found in the old edi- tions of 1600 and 1608. This nonsense got into all the editions by a pleasant mistake of the stage editors, who printed from the common piecemeal written parts in the play-house. A table was here directed to be brought in (it being a scene in a tavern where they drink at part- ing), and this direction crept into the text from the margin. Greenfield was the name of the property-man in that time who furnished implements, etc., for the actors." ^ In his preface also he indicated these final words as having been inserted in the text through the ignorance of the transcribers.^ 1 Pope's Sliakespear, vol. iii. p. 422. 2 Ibid. vol. i., Preface, p. xviii. 163 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE This explanation had a very plausible sound. It is indeed an excellent specimen of guess-work emendation based purely upon assumption. To those who knew nothing of the matter, it seemed convincing. There were, however, difficulties connected with it, and the more closely it was examined, the greater became the difficulties. A quite obvious one was that if there had been any furnisher of stage-properties of the name of Greenfield, Pope was the only person to whom knowl- edge of the fact had been vouchsafed. But there were further difficulties in tliis explanation of the so-called pleasant mistake of the actor-editors, which did not escape the attention of Theobald. Here his practical experience with the theater stood him in good stead. He did not venture to deny absolutely the existence of the mysterious Greenfield, though he hardly succeeded in hiding the behef in his mythical character which he entertained. But conceding the fact of there being such a man, he pointed out that never in the prompter's books, still less in the piecemeal parts where properties or implements are indicated as wanted, is the name of the one given whose business it is to provide them. Nor again is the direction for furnishing these properties ever marked in the middle of the scenes for which they are needed. It is at their beginning or at some earlier page before the actors enter, that it appears. The words therefore could not have been taken from the margin into the text. But the original difficulty still confronted him. How did the words get in if they did not belong there ? If they belonged there, what did they mean? Theobald 164 SHAKESPEARE RESTORED gave one possible explanation of their introduction as being a stage direction in reference to the subsequent scene. But upon this he wisely laid no stress. He hiid, however, he said, another interpretation, which, if accepted, would permit the words to be regarded as part of the text. In his possession was an edition of Shake- speare containing some marginal conjectures of a gentle- man who w^as then dead. By him the word ' table ' had been converted into ' talked.' Upon this hint Theobald improved. Instead of changing ' table ' to ' talked ' he changed it to ' babbled,' or, as it was then often spelled, ' babied.' This latter was still nearer the form in the folio. The only alterations were the addi- tion of a final d to the w^ord and the more serious reduc- tion to lower case of its initial letter. The passage was consequently made to read : " His nose was as sharp as a pen, and a babied of green fields." The happiness of this emendation struck every one at once. Men who had suggested other alterations frankly admitted the superiority of this.^ Pope himself was impressed by it, though he affected to treat the correc- tion slightly and as a guess hardly worth much atten- tion. In his comment upon it in his second edition he played upon the ignorance of the public as to the com- parative value of the original authorities, though he was careful to make no further reference to Greenfield, who had filled so important a part in his original explana- tion. "Mr. Pope omitted the latter part," he wrote, " because no such words are to be found in any edition 1 See, for instance, the ' Answer to Pope's Preface to Shakespeare,' by a StioUing Player (n. d. 1730, by John Roberts). 165 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE till after the author's death. However, the Restorer has a mind they should be genuine, and since he cannot otherwise make sense of 'em, would have a mere conjec- ture admitted." ^ It was in this characteristic way that Pope aimed to give the impression that it was Shake- speare who was responsible for his own reading, and to the player-editors — as he called Heming and Condell — was to be attributed the phrase which he had rejected. Not such, however, has been the general attitude of the commentators who have followed. The dissenters from Theobald's emendation have been but few, and the reasons given for their dissent have been anything but convincing. So far from being discredited, the reading suggested has been recommended by the occasional efforts which have been made to substitute something else in its place. Warburton was the only one of the eighteenth-century editors who concurred with Pope in rejecting the phrase. All the rest adopted it, in some cases grudgingly ; consoling themselves for the conces- sion to Theobald's sagacity by printing Pope's ridicu- lous reason for the omission, and Warburton's more ridiculous attempt to justify it. Still, they adopted the emendation, for they saw nothing better to propose. The same statement is essentially true of the nineteenth- century editors. Collier was the only English one who introduced a different reading into the text. Instead of " and a table of green fields," he substituted " on a table of green frieze." Delius retained the original phrase, and made a painful effort to explain it — painful 1 Pope's Shakespear, 2d ed., under ' Guesses, etc' at end o£ vol. viii. 166 SHAKESPEARE RESTORED in both the earher and later sense of the word. These are the only exceptions to the general unanimity with which Theobald's emendation has been received by later editors, who indeed, unhke their predecessors, have been cordial in their praise of it. Dyce, for instance, in his first edition remarked that he adopted it as a matter of course. Staunton, in his, spoke of the conjecture of Pope and " the equally atrocious sophistication of Mr. Collier's annotator " as needing only to be mentioned in order to be laughed at. In a later edition he declared that the emendation had now become so completely a part of the text that no editor would ever have the temerity to dis- place it. Such a prophecy, however, evinces a certain lack of familiarity with the courage of commentators. In this country White called it " the most felicitous conjectural emendation ever made to Shakespeare's text." It is needless to multiply such expressions of opinion. There is, in fact, a general feeling on the part of most critics that if Shakespeare did not write the passage as it has been amended, he ought so to have written it. The fate of the commentator is usually to build a good deal worse than he knew. This is an instance whei'e he builded a great deal better. For apparently Theobald himself did not fully appreciate liis own emendation. He certainly neglected to say anything of the most natural and effective point that belongs to it. One thing, he tells us, that led him to make the change he did, was the statement that in equatorial seas the minds of sailors, who are attacked by the calenture, the fever of the tropics, are apt to run upon green fields, which contrast 167 TH^ TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE SO sharply with the waste of waters about them. But this could have only a slight connection with any thoughts that could have passed through the mind of the dying Falstaff or with the scenes which surrounded his bedside. If the words are interpreted as they have been amended, they are in full consonance with that human experience, every aspect of which the mind of Shake- speare seems to have comprehended in its all-embracing grasp. In that parting hour the thoughts of the dying man leap over the interval of manhood's years of riot and revel, of wasted opportunities and perverted energies, to go back to the scenes of childhood when, a careless and innocent boy, he wandered in fields which under summer skies were redolent with the freshness and fra- grance of summer verdure. Such an interpretation is alike true to poetry and true to nature. Still, while we can hope and even believe that Shakespeare wrote the passage as amended, we unfortunately cannot insist upon it as an indisputable fact. The emendations in this review of Pope's edition were, as has been said, entirely Theobald's own. The merit of them cannot therefore, by any ingenuity, be transferred to any one else. Fortunately for his reputation, he had not at this time become entangled with Warburton. Had he been so then, that cool traducer of his former friend would have contrived to give the impression, if not to make the direct assertion, that anything of special value in this treatise was the fruit of his own suggestion. It gives a still higher opinion of Theobald's knowledge and sagacity that besides the lack of those facilities under which at that time the best equipped of men labored, he suffered 168 SHAKESPEARE RESTORED at first from the want of facilities which were possessed by others, and in particular by the editor whom he criti- cised. It is clear that at the outset he had but few of the original authorities to consult. The only quarto of ' Hamlet ' to which from his references he appears to have had access was that of 1637. Though he occasionally spoke of all the editions of Shakespeare, he did not then have in his hands the one most important, the folio of 1623. It is the second folio to which he refers and from which he quotes. Pope indeed asserted, or rather insinuated, that Theo- bald had never seen the first edition. In so doing he unwittingly paid the highest sort of a compliment to the acumen of his critic. In ' The Merry Wives of Windsor ' there is a blunder found in the text of the second folio and all the subsequent editions which had appeared up to this time. In every one of these Falstaff, in speaking of Mrs. Page, is represented as saying that sometimes " the beam of her view 'guided ' my foot." For this verb Theobald substituted 'gilded,' which in the time of Shake- speare was frequently spelled ' guilded.' He believed then that the correction was his own.' When Pope brought out his second edition in 1728, he inserted this as the proper reading, but denied Theobald's claim of being its originator. "It is in the first folio edition," he said, " which, it hereby appears, he had never seen." In these words Pope is pretty certainly sincere and not in the least ironical. Yet it is something hard to believe. If his comments were serious, he was unconsciously com- mending Theobald's sagacity, besides furnishing the 1 See Theobald's letter in the 'Daily Journal,' Nov. 26, 1728. 169 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE strongest sort of proof of having exhibited in his pre- vious edition the carelessness with w^hich he had been charged. No one pretends that Theobald was invariably right in his emendations, or that he did not make alterations which are now regarded as either unnecessary or unjus- tifiable. He was little likely to claim infallibility for liimself. There were conjectures he put forth in this treatise which he subsequently withdrew in his edition of Shakespeare. A correction of Hamlet, indeed, which is found in the body of this very work he retracted in the appendix.! There is this, however, to be said of the changes which he proposed. They were never wanton. They are always of the sort which are made by a man who has studied his subject, who has honestly striven to ascertain exactly what his author is aiming to express. Hence they usually convey a clear meaning, though to us it may npt seem the best meaning. In the dearth of linguistic knowledge then prevailing there were two sorts of errors into which every one was specially liable to fall. One ai'ose from the igiaorance of the form or meaning of dialectic or obsolete words. The other and much more dangerous error resulted from the ignorance of the obsolete meanings of words still in common use. From neither of these two classes of errors did Theo- bald escape. Yet the mistakes he made were never dne to indifference or negligence ; they sprang from the lack of knowledge which practically no one at that time pos- sessed, and which under ordinary conditions no one could then hope to gain. Still, he rarely, if ever, shirked ' Shakespeare Restored, pages 119, 191. 170 SHAKESPEARE RESTORED any difQculties which he saw ; he did the best he could to remove them with tlie means at his command. Let us observe his methods in instances where he failed. Take, in the first place, his treatment of an obsolete word occurring in Hamlet's soliloquy about his father, " So loving to my mother, Tliat he might not beteem the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly.'' The difficulty is with the verb beteem. We give it hei'e, or rather impose upon it, the signification of ' per- mit ' ; and such a sense the context seems imperatively to require. Yet there is nothing quite like this usage of it to be found elsewhere in our literature. It has almost invariably attached to it the meaning either of ' thirds: fit ' or of ' grant,' ' concede.' But the word itself has never been common. To Theobald and his im- mediate successors it was unknown. The situation was further obscured by the fact that in the first three folios, the form, disregarding shght orthographic variations, was beteen ; in the fourth folio, this was further cor- rupted into between. At this period no one knew of the existence of such a verb as beteen or beteem, the latter the form found in the quartos. Naturally no one had any conception of its meaning. One of the Restoration quartos met the difficulty boldly. For ' might not beteem,' it substi- tuted 'permitted not.' In this it was followed by Rowe, and he by Pope, and he in turn by Warburton. But Theobald's scholarly instincts were too strong to accept and introduce into the text a word which had no 171 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE authority in its favor, and no likeness to the one it dis- placed. He, on his part, changed beteen into let e'en. In this, he was followed by nearly all the eighteenth- century editors until 1790, when Malone restored the heteem of the quartos. But it cannot be considered sur- prising that Theobald should have stumbled at a verb not only obsolete then, but always rare and used here too in a still rarer sense. With our present knowledge we can, perhaps, safely hold that his emendation was unnecessary. But, with the knowledge possessed by the men of his time, the alteration was one which in- volved the least possible violence to the text ; for it pre- served the meaning, while making but a slight change in the form. Had the word heteem not existed, we should even now have been cherishing this amendment as a happy solution of a perplexing difficulty. The errors of the second class are necessarily more dangerous. In giving to a word in common use its present signification, instead of one it has discarded, we are cheating ourselves with the show of knowledge while losing its substance. No better illustration can be furnished of the difficulties of this kind which then beset an editor than what is afforded by a passage in ' Lear.' Gloucester has been plunged in a moment from the height of prosperity into irremediable misery. The loftiness of his position had given him a sense of secur- ity, had filled him with that careless confidence in his own future which becomes almost a second nature to those whom high place and long-continued good fortune have exempted, not merely from worldly reverses, but from the contemplation of such reverses as a possibility. 172 SHAKESPEARE RESTORED The calamity which has suddenly overtaken him leads him to reflect that this sense of security has been the agency that had brought about his fall. He sees that the possession of apparently boundless resources renders a man unobservant of the perils which threaten his for- tunes, while the very lack of these resoui'ces tends to the advantage of him who has them not, by causing him to conduct himself providently and cautiously. "Too oft," he says, — " Our means secure us, and our mere delects Prove our commodities." * The adjective secure had originally the sense of ' free from apprehension,' in accordance with the meaning of its Latin primitive. This it still retains. The significa- tion naturally passed over to the verb derived from it, as is here exemplified. Theobald, like his contempo- raries, was not, however, aware of the fact. He is cer- tainly not particularly to blame for not knowing it, when for more than a century afterward editors suc- ceeded in missing the meaning with infinitely greater facihties than he for acquiring it. Malone believed that means meant the same as mean. He therefore retained the form without understanding it. Steevens insisted that it was a mere typographical error. This valiant ignorance of what Gloucester was trying to say lasted indeed to a much later period. Theobald was at first disposed to accept Pope's emendation of secure into secures and of means into mean. According to this reading, the latter word would have the sense of ' low fortune,' ' the middle state.' But his natural acuteness 1 Act iv., scene i. 173 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE made him hesitate. He suspected the altered text not to be genuine. It made a fair sense, but it did not seem to him the best sense under the circumstances. There- fore he proposed to read ' ensnare ' for ' secure.' But, b}' the time he came to bring out his own edition, this alteration had clearly struck him as too violent. In consequence he returned to Pope's unsatisfactory emen- dation, with the result of keeping nearer to the words but of getting farther away from the sense than if he had adopted the unauthorized ensnare. There are occasionally faults far more objectionable than these. In some instances, the criticisms were of the very pettiest nature. There were a few that fully deserved the name oE "piddling," which his great antag- onist contrived to fasten upon them all in the minds of many. These were to be found most frequently in the observations upon Hamlet. But the remarks upon that play constituted apparently the principal portion of his review, and for that reason any criticism there occurring would be sure to attract attention. Theobald took Pope seriously to task for using devise, so spelled, as a noun. He informed him magisteiially that it must be restored to device. It is, perhaps, not advisable for us to assume too much virtue over this particular exhibi- tion of inanity. The lawless orthography of the English tongue often begets something of the same doting affec- tion for it which mothers occasionally manifest towards ill-favored children. Ample opportunity has been fur- nished to men much greater than this restorer of Shake- speare's text, and fully improved by them, to exhibit a similar state of mind. 174 SHAKESPEARE RESTORED Worse even than this, some of Theobald's emenda- tions were corrections of the pointing where the sense was not affected in the slightest by the change. He seems to have shared in the belief Avhich takes posses- sion of so many, that the particular punctuation which he had chosen to adopt was correct in its very essence and was not a matter of convention. His remarks, ac- cordingly, were more worthy of an opinionated proof- reader than of the editor of a classic. These were not very many, it is true, nor did he give them much space ; but few as they were, there were too many, and the space given them was too much. They furnished a kind of plausible justification for the contempt with which Pope and his adherents spoke of the whole process of making changes in the punctuation, as if it were some- thing which did not concern the meaning of the sen- tence, and as if indifference to it were merely a disregard of an unimportant prescription of the printers. It gave them a handle for misrepresentation of which they were not slow to avail themselves, and which they assuredly improved to the uttermost. A man's ability is measured not by his poorest work but by his best. Even as a commentator, it has been at times the peculiar fortune of Theobald to be judged by his worst. 175 CHAPTER X Theobald's attitude towards pope It is not too much to say that the publication of ' Shakespeare Restored ' created in the limited literary circle to which it appealed what would now be called a sensation. Textual criticism will never constitute an attractive subject for those who read merely or mainly for amusement. Nor can he who devotes himself to it expect, however successful he be, to gain much popular- ity with the mass of even highly educated men. But by the genuine students of Shakespeare, who were now beginning to form a recognizable body, the work was welcomed with enthusiasm. To them it was a revela- tion of the difficulties with which the plays were beset, of the need of an intelligent and thorough-going revi- sion of the text, and of the means that must be em- ployed to carry it into effect. The process was at once recognized as simple. But, simple as it was, it had never before occurred to an);- one to practise it. For the first time men saw pointed out, and to no small extent adequately illustrated, the proper method of attacking the corruptions in the text of an English classic and of restoring it to its pristine integrity. The impression produced by the treatise cannot be gainsaid. Contemporary critical estimates found then 176 THEOBALD'S ATTITUDE TOWARDS POPE indeed but little public expression. Those were not the days in which authors and what they wrote were cele- brated in the columns of every newspaper. Volumes were very rarely devoted to them or their works. Ref- erences to the greatest of them were very infrequent in number and were scanty in length. It was usually in short items in newspapers, or in brief essays mainly in the form of letters that attention was called to anything they had done. But he who goes through the drudgery of familiarizing himself with these obscure sources of information speedily becomes aware that with his pub- lication of ' Shakespeare Restored ' Theobald came at once into prominence. During the years immediately following the appearance of this treatise, his reputation was in certain particulars very high. Deference was paid to him as the greatest Shakespearean scholar of the time. The estimate, too, arising from this work, was steadily raised by the few further emendations which he from time to time put forth. A few months after his review of Pope's edition was published another correction by him of the text of Shake- speare came out in the ' London Journal.' It was con- tained in a private letter to a friend, who communicated it to the newspaper. The emendation was of the follow- ing passage in ' Coriolanus ' as it appeared in Pope's edition : " I think he '11 be to Kome As is the Asprey to the tish ; he '11 take it By sovereignty of Nature." Theobald was fully justified in observing, in his com- ment upon these lines, that Pope followed implicitly 12 177 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE preceding editions without guessing at what his author meant. Plain as it appears now, it was not so obvious then. All the authorities up to this time had had the form asprey or aspray. What did it mean ? The mul- tiplication of voluminous dictionaries has made us all aware that there is not and never has been any such word as asprey. But this was not and indeed could not be known then. Accordingly the correction of it into osprey was not so certain. Furthermore, the reference to the sovereignty of nature possessed by it, whatever was meant by the phrase, made any change doubtful. The passage was difficult of explanation, and neither Rowe nor Pope had thought of explaining it. Theobald was the first not only to point out the proper reading, but to establish it beyond question. He called attention to a popular belief, which though forgotten had once been prevalent, that the bird called the osprey captured fish by the fascination with which nature had endowed it. In justification of the change of spelling and in explana- tion of the meaning, he cited extracts from the English naturalist, William Turner, and the Swiss Gesner. This settled definitely for all time the justice of the correction as well as the meaning of the passage. Pope adopted it in his second edition, and Warburton followed with the sneering comment " spelt right by Mr. Theobald." Yet rarely has even so much credit as this been accorded him by succeeding editors.^ 1 This emendation was published in the ' London Journal ' of Saturday, Sept. 3, 1 726. Theobald's letter is dated August 23. The friend to whom it was addressed was Concanen ; at least some of the comments introducing it appeared later in his ' Speculatist.' It was reprinted from the original manuscript in Nichols, vol. ii. p. 1 89. ITS THEOBALD'S ATTITUDE TOWARDS POPE But whatever the attitude of later times or of a later period in his own time, no injustice was done him at the outset. So great was the repute of his work that for the three or four years following its publication he was al- most invariably referred to, when mentioned, as the "Author of ' Shakespeare Restored.' " He was so styled in the benefit which was given him at Covent Garden in May, 1727,^ as a tribute to the knowledge and sagacity he had displayed in determining the true text of the great dramatist. Pope indeed, with real or affected con- tempt, made it a point to term him the Restorer ; but if he was satirical in so designating him, others were sin- cere. There was ample reason for their entertaining the feelings they did. The correctness of the methods he had employed, the invariable plausibility and the frequent happiness of the emendations proposed commended them at once to all interested in the study of Shakespeare. Nor were his failures seen to be failures in the little knowledge of the subject which then existed. It was therefore not unnatural that regret should be expressed that to him had not been committed the task of editing the plays. Very probably many of these utterances came from personal friends ; but in some instances certainly their utterers had become his friends because they appreciated the work he had accomplished. One of these men was Concanen. Not many weeks after the appearance of ' Shakespeare Restored ' he sent to 'Mist's Journal,' though not under his own name, a communication which contained a warm eulogy of that treatise. He spoke of Theobald as one whom he did not 1 Maj' 5, 1727, Genest's 'English Stage,' vol. "i- p- 188- 179 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE have the good fortune to know ; but his emendations had revealed critical knowledge of the dramatist and mastery of the learning essential to his right comprehension — so much so that it was a matter of keen regret that it had not fallen to his lot to revise the text.^ In thus speaking he gave voice to what came to be more and more the general opinion. Mention has already been made of 'Mist's Journal;' and as further references to it will appear, it is advisable to give at this point some definite information about it and the part it played in the political and literary life of the times. It was established in December, 1716, by a printer named Nathaniel Mist. A Tory organ of the extremest type, with sympathies obviously Jacobite, it led for about a dozen years a checkered existence. It was constantly going to the danger line in attacking the government, and was itself in constant danger of being suppressed by the government. Its founder underwent to the full the trials which in those days were liable to befall newspaper men who were in opposition to the administration. Pie was frequently arrested, was fined, was committed to prison. He experienced the not un- common fortune of the journalist of that period of stand- ing in the pillory. The periodical itself had various vicissitudes. Whole numbers of it were occasionally seized. Grand juries presented it, expressed abhorrence 1 'Mist's Journal,' No. 54, May 7, 1726. The signature to this letter is Philo-Shakespear, but Coucauen's authorship is proved by the fact that it contains a number of sentences which are found in an essay of his con- tained in the volume entitled ' The Speculatist,' published in 1730 (page 185). For a further expression of a similar feeling see the communication of A. B. in the 'Loudon Journal' of May 28, 1726. 180 THEOBALD'S ATTITUDE TOWARDS POPE for it, and applied to it numerous uncomplimentary ad- jectives. It at times strove to act yfiih. moderation. But its zeal against the government was never long abated, nor the expression of it long tempered with caution. The end came at last. An article in the number for August 24, 1728, signed Amos Dudge, and attributed to the Duke of Wharton,^ piirported to give an account of matters in Persia, which country, according to it, was said to be ruled by an usurper. It was of too pronounced a Jacobite flavor for Hanoverian palates to tolerate. The whole machinery of government was set in motion against the paper and every one connected with it. In the following month it gave up the ghost. From its ashes, however, sprang up at once 'Fog's Weekly Journal.' This opened with a letter from Mist himself, who some time before had fled to France, acquainting the readers of the new paper with the fact that he had lately been seized with an apoplectic fit, of which he had instantly died. This of course was not true, either actually or symbolically, of the man ; but in certain ways it was true of the journal to which he had given his name. That had been for a long while a chosen medium, if not the chosen medium, through winch writers, without re- gard to their political opinions, expressed their views on matters connected with literature. During the year 1728, in particular, it contained, as long as it lasted, no small number of communications emanating from the friends or enemies of Pope. But with its sup- pression this distinctive peculiarity disappeared. It was 1 The Bee, vol. i. p. 9, Feb. 10, 1733. 181 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE not a characteristic which particularly marked its successor. Were it not that Pope labored to produce an impres- sion to the contrary, it would be entirely needless to say that Theobald's connection with ' Mist's Journal,' so far as he had any connection with it at all, was purely literary. With pohtics he never meddled, though his sympathies, unlike the poet's, were with the government. From the very beginning his interest had been mainly in scholas- tic pursuits. His emendations of Shakespeare were as little the result of chance guess or hap-hazard conjecture as they were the offspring of dulness. On the contrary, they were the ripened fruit of years of patient investiga- tion and close reflection. The knowledge which Theo- bald had already displayed in his review of Pope's edition had not been got up for the occasion. He had been a diligent student of Elizabethan literature long before he could have anticipated ajjpearing as a commentator on the works of its greatest representative, or as a critic of their editor. As a student of the period Shakespeare had naturally received his chief attention. It will not be surprising that the familiarity he acquired with his diction should be especially noticeable in his later writ- ings, such for instance as the so-called dramatic opera of ' Orestes.' In this throughout there is an imitation of the manner of the dramatist so far as that manner can be imitated. In reading it we are reminded almost too fre- quently of passages in his plays, especially ' Lear,' ' Mac- beth ' and ' The Tempest.' It is, to be sure, a dreadfully long road from Shakespeare to Theobald. Still it is plain that the inspiration received from the former gave 182 THEOBALD'S ATTITUDE TOWARDS POPE occasionally to the lines of the latter a poetic dignity not elsewhere observable in his dramatic production. But ' Orestes ' was brought out in 1731. At that time Theobald had been long occupied in the preparation of his edition of Shakespeare. We should therefore expect to find him then so thoroughly familiar with the writings of his author as to be affected consciously or uncon- sciously by their influence. But this same intimate acquaintance with the dramatist's method of expression was manifested in a poem which was published while he was still under thirty years of age. This piece was en- titled ' The Cave of Poverty ' and came out in the first half of 1715. It is perhaps not straining the evidence too far to suspect that the dedication of it to Lord Hali- fax may have been one of the petty additional causes that led Pope to assail that nobleman, twenty years after his death, in his ' Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot,' when he re- ferred to him as "full-blown Bufo puffed by every quill ; " for the poet's wide-embracing dislike extended not only to those he deemed his enemies, but to the friends and patrons of his enemies. After the appearance of ' The Dunciad ' it became the fashion to sneer at all of Theobald's poetry. It has re- mained the fashion ever since. Even those who have recognized his superiority as an editor have joined in this chorus of depreciation. No one need feel himself called upon to stand up for the merit of the work just mentioned, though it was one of which the author him- self thought a good deal. He declared that he had written it with a particular pleasure, and that he looked at it with the affection of a fond parent. Nor was his 183 THE TEXT OF StIAKESPEARn partiality unjustifiable from his point of vie^y. It is much tlie best thing of the kind he ever wrote. It is of course not worth reading now save by the student of literary history. At the same time there is no reason why it should be made the subject of special disparage- ment. Plenty of poetry of that period, no better in quality, and some much worse, met then with no small share of praise, and even at this late day is occasionally mentioned with respect. , To us, however, whatever interest and importance the piece possesses is closely connected with the name of the greatest of England's men of genius. The title- page professed that the poem was written in imitation of Shakespeare. The dedication to the Earl of Halifax de- clared the imitation to be very superficial. This is some- thing that might have been expected to be the case, had Theobald been possessed of far greater powers than he actually had ; but his further assertion that it extended only to the borrowing of some of his words is very much of an under-statement. The truth is that the produc- tion throughout adopts and reflects Shakespeare's phrase- ology. There is frequently in it a faint echo of his style, and of the peculiar melody of his versification. Such characteristics could have been manifested only by one who had become thoroughly steeped in his diction, and especially in that of his two principal poems. These were so far from being well known at that time that they were hardly known at all. When it came to form and vocabulary the imitation is much more plainly discernible. ' The Cave of Pov- erty' is written in the six-line stanza of the 'Venus 184 THEOBALD'S ATTITUDE TOWARDS POPE and Adonis,' a measure then hardly ever used and none too familiar since. In the phraseology the influence of Shakespeare is particularly apparent. The plays of the di-amatist abound in compound adjectives. They are even more numerous in his two principal poems. Theobald imitated him in this practice. He not only coined on his own account a pretty large number of these compounds, but he adopted a large number which he found in the writings of his great predecessor. From ' The Rape of Lucrece' he borrowed full fifteen, sometimes coupling them with the same substantives, as ' fiery-pointed sun,' ' tear-distained eye ' and ' blue-veined violets.' The adaptations from the plays were on a smaller scale, though among them occur some of the most notewortiiy employed by the dramatist. There are, for instance, the * tender-hefted ' of ' Lear ' and the ' wonder-wounded ' of ' Hamlet.' Furthermore there were to be found in this piece of Tlieobald's a large number of Shakespearean words and phrases with which few were familiar then, and not too many now. Such, for illustration, are ' copesmate,' ' bateless ' and ' askaunce their eyes,' all three taken from ' The Rape of Lucrece.' But there further appear in it the ' gallow ' of ' Lear,' the ' agnize ' of ' Othello,' the ' tristful ' of ' Hamlet,' the ' callet ' of several plays, the ' rebate the edge ' of ' Measure for Measure.' The way he used these words and phrases and others that could be mentioned, derived from Shake- speare, showed that he knew what they meant — a knowl- edge to which several of his detractors never attained. ' The Cave of Poverty ' never met, it is likely, with any remarkable success. Had it been indeed a far better 185 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE work than it was, the measure would have doomed it to comparative failure in an age which tolerated certain other forms of verse, but cared mainly for the heroic couplet. Yet until Pope fell foul of its author it was usually spoken of with a good deal of respect. Then the attitude of men was all changed, and it has continued changed to this day. Nowhere is there ever much of independent judgment; but in literary criticism there is less than anywhere else. Once let a damaginsf view be taken of a work or of a Aviiter by a person in a position to make his opinions known and respected, it will be adopted and re-echoed by multitudes, even if they are perfectly well aware that the depreciatory estimate is due to prejudice or per- sonal dislike. Ignorance continues what malice origi- nated. The hostile view taken is at last embalmed for all time in books of reference. From generation to generation the same remarks, the same misstatements, and frequently the same inanities continue to be re- peated by the whole herd of critics, without examina- tion and without reflection. Never has any author furnished in so many ways more signal proofs of the truth of this observation than has Theobald. Not alone in this poem had been indicated Theobald's capacity for engaging in the work which at that time he had not even contemplated. His periodical publica- tion, ' The Censor,' gave abundant manifestation of his interest in the literature of the Elizabethan age. It pur- ported to be written by a descendant of Ben Jonson of surly memory; but the references to Shakespeare and the quotations from him occur much more numerously 186 THEOBALD'S ATTITUDE TOWARDS POPE than in the case of any other author mentioned; and the tribute of praise is also much more unequivocal.^ Such things show unmistakably who it was that then occupied his thoughts. Theobald suffered, it is true, like the rest of his contemporaries, from the deep-seated sorrow of the age that the greatest of poets lacked knowledge of the poetic art ; but he mercifully refraiued from making his affliction conspicuous. In fact, more than once a suspicion was faintly expressed that the very ignorance of the dramatist might have been on the whole a benefit to his work. Yet ■with all his admiration for the author and famil- iarity with his writings, there is no reason to believe that Theobald then purposed to turn the knowledge of him he possessed to the use he later did. It is of course pos- sible, it is perhaps probable, that he may have dreamed of bringing out an edition of Shakespeare ; but if so, it could have been only a dream. No one would have then recognized or conceded bis qualifications for the task. For him, unknown and unfriended, subscribers could not have been secured. No publisher would have felt justi- fied in running .the risk of engaging in such an under- taking. Still, as Theobald was profoundly interested in the author himself, as he constantly made his works the subject of special studj', the condition of his text aa^ouIiI necessarily force itself upon his attention. But it was the accident of the publication of Pope's long-heralded and pompously proclaimed edition which brought him into the field as a commentator. 1 There are references to Shakespeare and quotations from or discus- sions of his writings in 'The Censor,' in numhers 7, 10, 16, 17, 18, 26, 36, 41, 48, 54, 60, 63, 70, 73, 75, 84, 87, and 95. 187 THE TEXT OP SHAKESPEARE It would be a gross error, however, to assume that in doing as he did he was actuated by the slightest personal hostility to the man whose work he criticised. Indeed at the outset of his career Theobald was so far from expect- ing ever to become an opponent of Pope that he can be reckoned among his warmest admirers. A poem of his on the death of Queen Anne, written in the heroic measure, and entitled ' The Mausoleum,' came out in 1714. Like nearly all of such occasional pieces it was both preten- tious and wretched. It contained, however, lines clearly suggested by those of his great contemporary. Further- more in the course of it he paid him a personal compli- ment. He spoke of the art of one " who by the god inspired, Could make Lodona flow aud be admired." To leave no doubt in the mind of any reader as to the person meant, he appended the following note : " Mr. Pope and his ' Windsor Forest.' " A few years later he expressed himself even more fervently in one of the es- says of ' The Censor.' In it he praised in most extrav- agant terms the version of the eight books of the ' Iliad ' which had then appeared. " The spirit of Homer," he said, " breathes all through this translation, and I am in doubt whether I should most admire the justness of the original, or the force and beauty of the language, or the sounding variety of the numbers ; but when I find all these meet, it puts me in mind of wliat the poet says of one of his heroes, that he alone raised and fluns: with ease a weighty stone that two common men could not lift from the ground ; just so one single person has per- 188 THEOBALD'S ATTITUDE TOWARDS POPE formed in this translation what I once despaired to have seen done by the force even of several masterly hands." 1 In truth Theobald's admiration for his great contem- porary may be said to have passed over into unjustifiable partisanship. He took frequent occasion in the periodi- cal just mentioned to signalize his devotion to Pope by making what seem unprovoked assaults upon Pope's stoutest antagonist, Dennis. Him he designated by the title of Furius. He spoke of him as an object of pity, rather than of the laughter and contempt which were his daily portion.^ In one instance he went to the unwar- rantable length of saying that Furius ought to be under obligation to him for his attack, for it would give him the opportunity of contributing to his own support by writ- ing twelve-penny worth of criticism in reply .^ In fine, he affected to treat Dennis with the same air of superiority which Pope was subsequently to manifest towards him- self. The veteran critic, as we have seen, had not been slow to retort in his usual slang-whanging style. But by the time Theobald's review of the edition of Shake- speare had appeared, all these differences must have been made up. In that work he paid Dennis a direct and probably well-deserved compliment for his intimate ac- quaintance with the works of the dramatist.* It was not an observation calculated to add to his great contempo- rary's equanimity, or to increase his regard for its author. 1 The Censor, No. 3.3, January 5, 1717. 2 IbiiL 3 Ihid. No. 70, April 2, 1717. * Shakespeare Restoroil, p. 181. 189 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE This change of front accordingly led Pope to revive, in the notes to ' The Dunciad,' the memory of these early quarrels, which had been largely due to the partiality exhibited in his own behalf by the man he was now seek- ing to disparage. He quoted the abusive terms which Theobald and Dennis had applied to each other. It is one of the singular results which followed the publica- tion of this satire that the writer of it was not only assailed for his version of the ' Iliad,' but the hero of it was likewise taken to task for having praised this version in his periodical essays. The former, it was said, with a comical and unparalleled assurance had undertaken to translate Homer from Greek, of which he did not know one word, into English of which he understood almost as little. Along with this the latter was vituperated for his " idiot zeal " in behalf of the translation. ^ Theobald must have felt at the appearance of this attack that he was exposed to a double fire. It was certainly hard to. be at one and the same time an object of Pope's satire for having exposed his blunders as a commentator and to be railed at by the assailants of Pope for having exalted him as a poet. It is possible that Theobald's efforts to ingratiate him- self with the most prominent man of lettei's of his time had not met with mucli success. He certainly failed to secure his name as a subscriber to his proposed edition of iEschylus. This may have abated the warmth of the feeling with which the inferior writer had been disposed to regard the superior one. Still, it is manifest that it was from no sentiment of hostility that he put forth his 1 The Popiad, 1728, pp. 1, 5. 190 THEOBALD'S ATTITUDE TOWARDS POPE review of Pope's edition of Shakespeare. He not only refrained from exhibiting the feeling, he disclaimed it. Throughout his treatise, he was personally respectful to the man he criticised. In fact, he professed admiration for him, though it is clear that it was admiration for him as a poet, and not as a commentator. " I have so great an esteem for Mr. Pope," he wrote in one place, " and so high an opinion of his genius and excellencies, that I beg to be excused from the least intention of derogating from his merits in this attempt to restore the true read- ing of Shakespeare." ^ In another place, he enrolled himself specifically in the list of the poet's admirers.'-' But no one could criticise Pope and expose his real or fancied shortcomings without subjecting himself to his resentment. Knowing, as we do now his character and methods, there is something almost guileless in Theo- bald's remark at the close of his treatise, that while he expected to undergo attacks of wit for what he had done, he should have no great concern about those which might proceed from a generous antagonist. Where he was mistaken, it would gratify him to be corrected, for the public would be sure to reap the advantage. "Wherever I have the luck," he added, " to be right in any observation, I flatter myself Mr. Pope Mmself will be pleased that Shakespeare receives some benefit." ^ There may be room for difference of opinion as to how Theobald would have felt at having any blunders of his own pointed out; there can be none as to how such a proceeding would affect the mind of the man whom in 1 Shakespeare Eestored, Introduction, p. iii. 2 Ibid. p. ii. ' Ibid. p. 194. 191 THE TEXT OF- SHAKESPEARE his innocence he characterized as a generous antagonist. It would be difficult to impart joy to the heart of any author by showing up his errors ; in the case of Pope, it would have been absolutely impossible. Theobald was speedily to learn that lesson to his heart's content. Dr. Johnson tells us, in his life of Pope, that Spence's review of the translation of the ' Odyssey ' was the poet's first experience of a critic without malevolence. Un- true as this statement was in general, in regard to the particular work he had in mind, it was absurdly untrue. Johnson was referring to the ' Essay on the Translation of the Odyssey,' the first part of which Spence brought out in June, 1726, and the second part in August, 1727. In it the writer professed to take into dispassionate con- sideration the beauties and the blemishes of that version. This work was highly tliought of in the eighteenth cen- tury. Few pieces of criticism have ever, at any time, attained so much repute with so little justification for it. The enthusiastic praise it evoked seems now almost in- comprehensible. Joseph Warton, for illustration, went into raptures over it. With a delightful unconscious- ness of what his words necessarily implied as to his own estimate of himself, he paid the following glowing trib- ute to its excellence. " I speak from experience," he remarked, " when I say I know no critical treatise better calculated to form the taste of a young man of genius than this ' Essay on the Odyssey.' " To show that his opinion was not due to the partiality of intimate per- sonal friendship which he enjoyed with the author, he added that it was concurred in by three persons from whom there could be no appeal. The three men whose 192 THEOBALD'S ATTITUDE TOWARDS POPE judgment, as reported by him, was to bind that of all coming times, were Akenside, Bishop Lowth, and James Harris.^ Posterity, however, has failed to be awed by this for- midable array of names. It has been much more dis- posed to accept Johnson's. dictum that Spence was a weak and conceited man. Still, it is delightful to have lack of malevolence declared by the same authority to be a distinguishing characteristic of this Essay. John- son's further remark that the poet was little offended by it has been improved npon by later writers, who tell us that Pope exhibited the loftiness of his character by not taking the criticism amiss, and becoming instead the close personal friend of the author. It would have re- quired a peculiar temperament to feel annoyance or irritation at the view of the version of the epic which was taken by Spence. The most sensitive of souls might be expected to bear with equanimity the charge that his translation of the ' Odyssey ' was faulty because it was superior to the original. As a matter of fact, we know that Pope was delighted with it, as he had good reason to be. His coadjutor. Fen ton, declared that if what appeared in this 'Essay' was the worst that could be said of the version, he would be criticised into a much better opinion of it than he had previously entertained. He was inclined to believe, he wrote to Broome, that the world would fancy they had employed a friend pre- tendedly to attack them, or perhaps that they had written it themselves.2 1 "Warton's Pope, vol. i. in ' Life of Pope,' p. xxxvi, 1797. 2 Letter of June 10, 1726, Pope's ' Works,' vol. viii. p. 720. 13 193 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE Never, indeed, was more abject deference paid to a great writer under the pretence of correcting his errors. Tlie direct censure was conveyed in such a way as to involve the highest indirect praise. The passages with which fault was found were, it was implied, not really bad in themselves ; they were bad because they were so good. They were unfaithful to the original. Where that was simple, the translator had ornamented it, had elevated it, had given it majesty. Even for venturing to take mild exceptions of this complimentary character, Spence was profuse in his apologies. He further made up for the censure, if by any stretch of language it can be called censure, by bespattering the man he was theo- retically criticising with the grossest adulation. He was not content with pointing out place after place in the translation where Pope had improved upon Homer. In general terms, he celebi'ated him as- the one who had shown the noblest genius for poetry in the world. He paid the highest tribute to the generosity of his nature and the virtue of his soul. He characterized those who had presumed to find fault with his writings and char- acter as Zoiluses and animals. The only redeeming feature in all the fulsome flattery of this treatise is that Spence said nothing more than he honestly believed. His sincerity cannot be questioned, Avhatever we may think of his sense. This feeble essay, masquerading under the guise of a critical examination, was designated during the eigh- teenth century as useful and pleasing and just. To tiie men who so regarded it, Theobald's review of the edition of Shakespeare might seem malevolent. That certainly 194 THEOBALD'S ATTITUDE TOWARDS POPE is the inference to be drawn from Dr. Johnson's remark. Tet, such a view of it would be about the fartliest possible remove from the trutli. There was not the slightest trace of malevolence in ' Shakespeare Restored.' There was nothing in the volume which passed the bounds of legitimate criticism. Yet, while this can be said with perfect justice, while indeed it is the precise truth, it is not the whole truth. We all act from mixed motives, and it would be idle to pretend that Theobald in his review was animated by no other feeling than the desire to rectify the text of his favorite author. It fur- nished him an opportunity to distinguish himself in a field where he could not fail to be aware of his own ex- cellence. There was, undoubtedly, a spice of vanity in his anxiety to show to the world that in one respect he was far superior to the most eminent man of letters of liis time. Nor did he throughout his review maintain a careful regard for the sensitive feelings of the WTiter he was criticising. The subsidiary title of his treatise was itself of a somewhat aggressive nature. That he should term his work " a specimen of the many errors as well committed as unamended by Mr. Pope" cannot be deemed conciliatory. In three or four places he spoke with a good deal of severity of the negligence and care- lessness which had been exhibited in the revisal of the text. He called it inexcusable. He did something worse. He showed that it was in- excusable. Unpleasant inferences in this respect could not fail to be drawn from some of his exposures. He pointed out, for illustration, that in the second part of Henry VI., the " bastard hand " of Brutus is represented 195 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE in this much-vaunted edition, as having stabbed Pompey the Great. The somewhat ridiculous blunder was due to the disappearance of a line.^ This line, however, had been found in all editions except the second one of Rowe. Out of that it had been accidentally dropped, it is clear, while the work was going through the press. Its absence from the following edition, however, could hardly be called the accident of an accident. There was but one way of explaining the error. Pope's edition had been printed from Rowe's second edition. This was proper enough. What was censurable was that it was so far from having being subjected to any thorough re- vision that a gross blunder of this sort, unfaithful to the truth of history as well as to the text of Shakespeare, had passed unnoticed and unrecorded. This was far from agreeing with the claim made for the work in the preface that it was based throughout upon the original authorities. The errors of this sort which were pointed out — and the list has been by no means exhausted — were rarely accompanied by any special censure. Theobald usually set forth the exact facts, and left the reader to draw the inference. But so long as the positive offence of detect- ing the blunder was committed, the merely negative merit of abstention from its denunciation was not calcu- lated to allay the wrath of the man whose carelessness 1 The lines in ' Plenry VI' (Act iv., scene 1) read as follows : " A Roman sworder and banditto slave Murther'd sweet TuUy ; Brums' bastard hand Stabb'd Julius Csesar ; savage islanders Pompey the Great ; and Suffolk dies by pirates." The third line was dropped out in Pope's first edition. It was restored in the edition of 172S. :96 THEOBALD'S ATTITUDE TOWARDS POPE had been exposed. Undoubtedly, it would have been just to give Pope credit for the work he actually accom- plished, meager as it was when contrasted Avith what it purported to be. But such action on Theobald's part was desirable as a tribute to abstract justice, not to any benefit he A\'ould have received for it at the hands of the angry poet. From the experience he went through in other cases, we may be sure that any admission of the sort would have been wrested to his disadvantage. While, therefore, it might have been better to treat Pope's flagrant shortcomings with more deference ; while it might have been courteous, in consideration of his exalted position, to refrain from criticism of any sort, it is perfectly correct to say that there was no malevo- lence in it. Assuredly, if there was, all criticism which aims to correct obvious error, is malevolent. Doubtless it was impolitic to say the things he did. But the fact remains that the things he said were true ; and Shake- speare's text would have lost by their suppression the benefit which Pope's feelings would have received. For it must be kept in mind that it was the exposure itself of his errors that roused the poet's resentment, and not the spirit in which the exposure was made. To a slight extent that, too, contributed to his irritation. There was exhibited by Theobald a consciousness of superior- ity which it would have been wisdom to dissemble, though it was not malignity to manifest ; for his crit- icism throughout was that of a man who knew his subject upon the work of one who showed on page after page the results of half-knowledge and inadequate investigation. 197 CHAPTER XI pope's PEELtMINARY ATTACK The revelation which Theobald had made of the inattention and incapacity displayed by Pope in his edition of Sliakespeaie stirred the poet's nature to its inmost depths. No one of the irritable race of authors has ever been more sensitive than he to criticism of any sort. The slightest censure galled him, the slightest reflection upon his character or conduct irritated him beyond measure. In this instance his natural sensitive- ness was intensified by the consciousness, entertained though unavowed, that the criticism was deserved. In attacks to which his other works had been subjected, he could not but be aware that even if faults in certain particulars were pointed out, they were far more than offset by merits which the most grudging envy was compelled to acknowledge. No compensation of this sort presented itself here. There was little to relieve the wretchedness of failure. However much, therefore, he might in public underrate and misrepresent the criticism which had exposed his shortcomings, however much he might affect to despise both it and its author, in his secret heart he indulged in no illusions as to its justice. It is very noticeable that much as he boasted of many things, and at times with good reason, he never 198 POPE'S PRELIMINARY ATTACK boasted of his edition of Shakespeare. He rarely spoke of it; and when he did his attitude was distinctly apologetic. It is expressed in the note found first in ' The Dunciad ' of 1736, that he undertook the edition of Shakespeare merely because no one else would.^ Theobald's criticism, moreover, had come out at an unpropitious moment. Pope's friends and flatterers were just on the point of celebrating his superiority as an editor, as they had been wont to celebrate his supe- riority as a translator. They stood ready and eager to praise his work on Shakespeare, not because they had the slightest knowledge of how it had been performed, but because his name was associated Avith it; and they would have praised it just as ardently and unintelli- gently had the execution of it been far poorer than it actually was. In fact, one tribute of the kind had already been paid when it was too late for the author to recall it. In June, 1726, the final instalment of the version of the ' Odyssey ' was delivered to subscribers. At the conclusion of the notes he had prepared, Broome, not content with signing the false statement as to the respective shares which Fenton and he had had in the translation, burst forth into a glowing poetical panegyric upon the man who had induced him to make the false statement. In the course of it he celebrated in the following words the ability displayed by Pope in editing Shakespeare and the gratification which the abihty displayed would bring to the dead dramatist : " If ought on earth, when once the breath is fled, With human transport touch the mighty dead; 1 Dunciad, Book 3, line 332. 199 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE Shakespear, rejoice ! his hand thy page refines: And every scene with native brightness shines; Just to thy fame, he gives thy genuine thought; So Tully published what Lucretius wrote; Pruned by his care, thy laurels loftier grow. And bloom afresh on thy immortal brow." Of Shakespeare, Broome presumably knew but little ; of the proper manner of editing him he certainly knew nothing at all. This view of Pope's achievement had been prepared, though not published, before the appear- ance of ' Shakespeare Restored.' When that came out, the criticism contained in it liad a tendency to make all such lines seem ridiculous. If Theobald's work accom- plished nothing else, it put an end to all further enter- prises in that particular field of eulogy. Pope's sensitiveness was still further intensified by the universal acclaim with which Theobald's treatise had been received by every one interested in Shake- speare. The author's friends, as was natural, were never weary of celebrating its merits. Their utterances had been reinforced by the voices of men who, having no hostility to Pope, indeed being admirers of his writings, had yet been led by this review of the subject to enter- tain a poor opinion both of his critical skill and of his industry as an editor. But to these two classes were added those — and they were no small number — who were envious of the poet and of the position he had attained. Many of tliem cared little for Shakespeare, still less for Theobald, but they hated Pope. The unconcealed joy displayed by his enemies, and by those whom he chose to regard as lils enemies, gave increased 200 POPE'S PRELIMINARY ATTACK strength to the hostihty which it was peculiarly char- acteristic of his nature to feel toward the man who had brought upon him this unexpected humiliation. No depreciation which his writings had up to this time received, no attacks made upon his conduct, no abuse of his person inflicted upon him mortification so keen as that which he underwent from a work which, how- ever severe, was characterized by no malice and had not in it one word of calumny. It was its justice which made it intolerable. There was no escape from its quiet but relentless exposure of the carelessness he had displayed and of the blunders he had committed. In the numerous quarrels with wliich Pope's life was diversified, nothing — with perhaps the single exception of Gibber's Letter of 1742 — so iriitated and incensed him as the publication of ' Shakespeare Re- stored.' He took the course which those familiar with his character and career would naturally expect. The man who had been the instrument of making him feel his in- feriority was followed by him for years with an activity that never slept and a malignity tliat never tired. So tlioroughly did he acquit himself of the task he set out to perform, so carefully did he cover his steps, that up to the present day nearly all his perversions of fact and of statement have been accepted with not even so much as a suggestion as to their possible untrustworthiness. Even those persons who have been unwearied in ferreting out the trutli in regard to his tortuous course in the case of other men, Iiave been content to receive without ques- tion and repeat without examination the numerous false charges he brought against Theobald. 201 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE At the time, however, he made no undue haste to begin hostilities. In truth it was two years after the publication of ' Shakespeare Restored ' before he took any public notice of the criticism which his edition of the dramatist had received. None the less did he brood over it constantly, none the less was he pre- paring to exact ample vengeance for the censure his work had undergone. In June, 1727, more than a year after the appearance of Theobald's treatise, came out two volumes of ' Miscellanies ' under the avowed editorship of Pope and Swift. They contained, fur- thermore, pieces by Arbuthnot and Gay. To the first volume was prefixed an apologetic preface, signed by the two editors, but bearing the unmistakable ear-mark of Pope. To begin with, there was the affected depre- ciation of the work as a whole. The pieces contained in it, the stricter judgment of the authors would have suppressed had it been in their power. But by the in- discretion of friends copies had got abroad, sometimes mangled, sometimes with spurious additions, and ren- dered in other ways intolerably imperfect. Hence they were under the painful necessity of printing the things which had appeared, not as they had appeared, but ex- actly as they had been written. Contemporary comment at once declared that their contents as now printed did not vary at all from the way they read when originally published. No change in them worth mentioning could be discovered. Hence the assumed necessity of repairing the indiscretion of friends did not exist. If this be true, it may be the reason why the work did not at the time excite any special interest or attention. 202 POPE'S PRELIMINARY ATTACK All this was changed, however, when in March, 1728, came out another volume of ' Miscellanies,' having on its title-page " the last volume." ^ This contained mat- ter which had previously been printed ; but there were in it some things both in prose and verse which were new and which were designed to create the uproar, such as it was, which followed. One piece of poetry entitled ' Fragment of a Satire ' was the celebrated attack upon Addison which had first appeared in print five years before. To it a number of additions concerning other writers were now made. Among these was an attack upon Theobald who was designated as " a word-catcher who lives on syllables." To him was also applied here the adjective " piddling " ; and by the keenness and bril- liancy of the lines reflecting upon him Pope fixed per- manently this epithet upon his critic. This so-called ' Fragment ' was afterward embodied with some mod- ifications in the ' Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot.' But the real firebrand thrown into the literary powder-magazine was the prose piece with which this third volume opened. No one doubts now that it was prepared with the intent of creating the explosion which followed. It was entitled ' Martinus Scriblerus on the Bathos, or the Art of Sinking in Poetry.' Bathos, in the sense here indicated, had apparently never hitherto been employed in English. It consequently appeared in Greek charac- ters, but was regularly rendered by " the profund," a 1 " This day is published ' Miscellanies,' The Last Volume. By the EeT. Dr. Swift, Alexander Pope, Esq. ; etc., consisting of several copies of verses, most of them never before printed. To which is prefixed ' A Dis- course on the Profund, or the Art of Sinking in Poetry." (' The Crafts- man.' March 9, 1728.) 203 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE spelling designedly adopted to distinguish it from " the profound." The two men against whom the attack in this treatise was mainly directed, were Sir Richard Blackmore and Ambrose Philips. The former, now nearing his grave, had incurred the bitter enmity of both Swift and Pope. Swift had been denounced by him for his ' Tale of a Tub.' For writing it, Blackmore had termed him an impious buffoon, " who in any Pagan or Popish nation would have received the punishment he deserved for offering indignity to the established religion of his country, instead of being rewarded, as had been his lot, with preferment." Upon Swift's fellow-editor the moralist had been, if anything, more severe. He at- tacked him as the author of an indecent travesty of the first Psalm. This, after having been handed about in manuscript, had got into print and was widely dis- persed. Blackmore had declared that the godless writer had burlesqued the psalm in so obscene and profane a manner that perhaps no age had seen so insolent an af- front offered with impunity to a country's religion. The authorship of the piece Pope frequently affected, but never ventured really to deny.^ In a newspaper adver- tisement he had offered three guineas' reward for the discovery of the person who had sent it to the press. But his threats were laughed to scorn; for he was careful to keep silence when met not only with de- fiance, but with the assurance that whenever there 1 It is BOticeaWe that in the note to 'The Dnnciad' (4to of 1729, Book 2, 1. 256 ; modern editions, 1. 268) attacking Blackmore, Pope notices this charge, but while trying to discredit it, does not deny it. 204 POPE'S PRELIMINARY ATTACK should be occasion for it, the production could and would be shown in his own handwriting. This and another poem, entitled ' The Worms,' cannot be found in editions of Pope's works : but he was constantly- taunted during his life with their authorship, of which indeed there is no doubt. Blackmore's denunciation of both the editors had been published about half a score of years previous to this time. But Pope had never forgotten the provocation. As a consequence, his assailant appeared in this treatise as " the father of the Bathos and indeed the true Homer of it." From his writings much the largest number of examples were taken. Ambrose Philips was the one who fell under the next heaviest censure. With him Pope had been on ill terms since the publication of the pastoral poems of each in 1709 in the same volume. He had never been able to get over the injury wrought to his feelings by the fact that men had been found to exhibit the bad taste of preferring the artificial produc- tions of this sort manufactured by his rival to the diverse but equally artificial productions manufactured by him- self. To all intents and purposes it was a quarrel about the value of the yield of wool that could be secured from the shearing of horned cattle. The bucolic emotions to which each poet had given vent bore as close a resem- blance to the bleating of sheep as they did to the speech of shepherds. The admiration professed by many for the pastorals of Philips, and the preference accorded them over his own had furnished Pope previous occasion for satire. A new opportunity was now offered. Hence from these poems of his rival no small number of ex- 205 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE tracts illustrative of the bathos were taken. But the examples of it were by no means limited to these two authors. They were collected from several other poets of the time, and in some instances from men of eminence. Addison's ' Campaign ' was largely drawn upon, and pas- sages from anonymous pieces, some of them not impos- sibly written by Pope himself for the very purpose. Not even was Shakespeare spared. These criticisms might therefore have met with comparatively httle re- sentment, had not a distinct personal attack been levelled in the sixth chapter against a large number of contem- poraiy writers. This sixth chapter was entitled " Of the several Kinds of Geniuses in the Profund and the Marks and Charac- ter of each." More than a score of authors, indicated by their initials, were classified under the names of various members of the animal creation. This Pope desired and expected to be followed by an outcry that would furnish in turn the needed pretext for the pub- lication of the satire which, long contemplated, had now been brought substantially to completion. In this list Theobald appeared in two places as L. T. Once he was represented as belonging to the swallows, who are de- scribed as " authors that are eternallv skimming and fluttering up and down, but all their agility is employed to catch flies." He appeared again among the eels, who are " obscure authors that wrap themselves up in their own mud, but are mighty nimble and pert." But be- sides the personal references in this chapter, certain examples of the art of sinking in poetry occurred else- where in the essay, taken from the play of 'Double 206 POPE'S PRELIMINARY ATTACK Falsehood,' which Pope ascribed to him, terming it in one place ' Double Distress.' ^ The attack thus made upon the various authors was intended to lead to recriminations and replies. To some extent it did. When in the following May ' The Dun- ciad ' made its appearance the author, under the guise of its publisher, gave as a reason for its production that for every week for the two preceding months the town had been persecuted with pamphlets, advertisements, letters and weekl}- essaj-s, not only against the wit and writings, but against the character and person of Mr. Pope. This exaggerated statement has been accepted by all later writers as a true account of the situation. As a matter of fact the attacks upon the poet, compared with the provocation given, were exceedingly few. Not a single pamphlet was published. All the articles of any nature, whether in prose or verse, Avhetlier the briefest of para- graphs or the longest of letters, which appeared between the dates of the ' Essay on the Profund ' and of ' The Dun- ciad,' were collected soon after into a single volume. They were just twenty in number. Of these it is per- fectly clear that four either came directly from Pope him- self or were instigated by him. He must have felt some disappointment that more of the men who had been sat- irized in his treatise on the bathos did not deem it worth while to take any notice of the production. Among the contemporary authors attacked were Blackmore, Defoe, Ducket, Aaron Hill, Ambrose Philips, Ward, and Wel- sted. From not one of these nor from several others not 1 This play, in truth, rarely receives even now its exact title. It is almost invariably called ' The Double Falsehood.' Even in Lowndes it appears with the definite article prefixed. 207 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE here recorded came a reply in any form. In the list which Pope subsequently put forth of those who during the two months before the publication of ' The Dunciad ' had made him an object of invective, it is noticeable that five only — Cooke, Dennis, Oldmixon, Theobald, and Moore- Smythe — had names answering to the initials which had been given. The last-named had indeed attributed to him a letter which was either written by Pope himself or in his interest. It is characteristic of Pope that one of the victims in this treatise on the bathos was a man whom he called his friend, and whom indeed at the time he was loading with expressions of regard. This was his admirer and imitator, Broome. He from the beginning had shown himself willing to do almost anything and to say almost anything to secure the poet's friendship and praise. He had written the notes to the translation of the ' Iliad,' and for it had refused any compensation. He had further written the notes to the ' Odyssey,' he had translated eight of its books, and for both had received but little compen- sation. Having used him as his drudge, Pope had pro- ceeded to make him his tool. At the conclusion of the notes he induced Broome to assign to him a large share of his own work, and inferentially to include that of Fenton. Instead of the twelve books of the ' Odyssey ' which they had rendered into English, they appeared as having made a version of but five. The statement Pope confirmed by calling it "punctually just." But the be- trayal of the truth did not bring to Broome the praise he craved and expected from the poet. He resented the neglect, nor did he take pains to keep silent about the 208 POPE'S PRELIMINARY ATTACK real facts. For this insubordination Pope put the initials of his name in the ' Essay on the Prof und ' with those of others. He furthermore gave from his poetry several specimens illustrative of the bathos. Broome prepared a private letter complaining of the ungenerous and un- grateful treatment which he had met from the man for whom he had done so much and from whom he had received so little. Before sending it he forwarded it to Fenton, and by Fenton was prevailed upon to preserve a silence which he confessed he would not have been able to keep himself. " He has challenged you to a public defence," wrote his friend, " and if you do not think it worth your while to take up the gauntlet, the sullen silence of Ajax will be the most manly revenge. Far be it from me to endeavor to spirit you up to the combat; but if it were my own case, I could not remain passive under such a provocation." ^ But Broome was not an Ajax, as Pope well knew, but only an amiable coward. His sullen silence accordingly served only to procure him later a place in 'The Dunciad.' The treatment of Broome was typical of Pope's con- duct when he felt that action of this sort could be taken with impunity. If one to whom he was under obligation could meet with such a return, what could he expect who had inflicted upon the poet the keenest mortification? Still, if Broome kept silent from fear, no motive of this nature influenced Theobald. Yet from him came nothing directly for the space of several weeks, and when it came it was a perfectly legitimate defence, not of himself, but 1 Pope's ' Works,' vol. viii. p. 146, letter of April 7, 1728, from Fenton to Broome. 14 209 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE of the language of the play he had edited. Indirectly he may be said to have furnished at once a species of reply. It was, however, coincident with the publication of the last ' Miscellany ' volume rather than a consequent of it. That work had appeared in the lirst half of March. About the middle of the same month ' Mist's Journal ' ^ printed a communication which inclosed a private letter of Theobald's to a friend. The letter was essentially a continuation of the criticism which had already appeared in ' Shakespeare Restored.' This the correspondent who sent it professed to have forwarded for publication with- out leave obtained. The assertion was pretty certainly one of those amiable fictions which have the semblance of mendacity without its substance. False statements of this sort partake rather of the nature of intellectual exer- cises than of moral offences : for they never deceive nor are they expected to deceive anybod3^ This letter of Theobald's contained three emendations of the text of Shakespeare and the clearing up of a wrongly explained reference. All of these were of a kind to arrest the attention of students of the dramatist. One of them introduced a slight alteration in the speech of Prospero to Ferdinand, when he bestows upon him the hand of Miranda. In it he tells him, in the text up to this time received, that he had given him " a third " of his own life. Theobald changed ' third ' to ' thread.' About the advisability of this alteration, opinion has been divided from the beginning. Some editors accept it, others follow the original. But no such diversity of opinion has befallen the next two. They have been sub- 1 No. 152, March 16, 1728. 210 POPE'S PRELIMINARY ATTACK stantially adopted in all editions since the time of their first appearance. One of these gives a further illustra- tion of that conjectural sagacity which Theobald had akeady exhibited and was later to exhibit still more fully. It is concerned with the scene in which a senator of Athens is represented as sending his servant to Timon with a demand for the repayment of money borrowed. He dismisses him with the following injunction, as the passage appears in the original : " Take the bonds along with you And have the dates in. Come."i As dates are never a later insertion in bonds, Theobald changed the last line so as to read " And have the dates in compt. " and this is the way the passage reads in modern editions. The remaining correction as well as its explanation was due rather to superior knowledge than to superior acumen. In the play of ' Coriolanus ' Lartius sums up the hero's character by observing " Thou wast a soldier, Even to Calvus wish." ^ So read the editions of Rowe and Pope ; it was their correction of the ' Calves ' of the folios. But who was Calvus ? What was his idea of a soldier, and where was it to be found? No one knew. Theobald really did what Pope made a pretence to do, that is, he consulted carefully Shakespeare's originals. In consequence he pointed out that it must be Cato who was here meant, and not any one by the name of Calvus. The former it was 1 Timon, act ii., scene 1. ^ Act i., scene 4. 211 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE who was described in Plutarch's life of Coriolanus as hav- ing given utterance to the views of the soldier which were here expressed. Of course this involved an anachro- nism ; for the hero of the play lived two centuries and a half before Cato, to whom the sentiments were attrib- uted. But anachronism is a literary crime about which few great poets trouble themselves much; and great early poets not at all. Pope, while he was compelled to admit the justice of the emendation, pretended to be pained by the discovery. It cast a discredit upon Shake- speare, which he seemed to think would never have fallen upon him, had it not been for Theobald. " A ter- rible anachronism," he wrote, " wliich might have lain hid but for this Restorer." ^ It was easy to retort — Theobald did not fail to take advantage of it — that in this same pla}' occurred other anachronisms which had not harrowed the feelings of the editor. Alexander the Great and Galen had been mentioned. The one flourished two centuries after Coriolanus, the other six. The emendation just given is one which might have occurred to any classical scholar of the time. Such, however, is not the case with the following passage from ' Troilus and Cressida.' In the course of the speech in which Agamemnon recounts to Diomed the reverses of the Greeks, he says among other things, " The dreadful Sagittary Appals our numbers." Pope considered that the Trojan archer, Teucer, was the person here meant. But Theobald knew, what few 1 Pope's Shakespeare, 2d ed., end of vol. viii., under ' Various Read- ings, Guesses, etc' 212 POPE'S PRELIMINARY ATTACK men of his time did, that Shakespeare had founded his play of 'Troilus and Cressida' upon the mediteval version of the tale of Troy and not upon the Homeric. He pointed out that the source of this speech was to be found in an old chronicle originally printed by Caxton and subsequently by Wynkin de Worde. It contained an account of the three destructions of Troy. From it he cited the passage describing the " mervayllouse beste that was called Sagittarye, that behynde the myddes was an horse, and to fore a man ; this beeste was heery like an horse and had his eyen rede as a cole, and sliotte well with a bowe: this beste made the Grekes sore afrede, and slew many of them with his bowe." No one now questions the correctness of this explanation; few indeed there were who did so then. But Pope con- tinued to remain faithful to his Teucer. To original lack of knowledge he added obstinate persistence in error. The reference to the undoubted original was the immediate cause of his speaking in 'The Dunciad' of Theobald as stuffing his brain " With all such reading as was never read." ^ In the note to another line of this same work he spoke contemptuously of the beast called Sagittary which Theobald " would have Shakespear to mean rather than Teucer, the archer celebrated by Homer." ^ These are specimens of emendations which in Pope's 1 DuDciad, quarto of 1729, Book 1, 1. 166. In the recast of 1743 it became line 250 of Book 4, as in modern editions, and was made to refer to Bentley. The original note upon it was necessarily dropped. 2 Quarto of 1729, Book 1, 1. 129 ; in modern editions 1. 149. This note also disappeared in the recast of 1 743. 213 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE eyes were piddling, and of explanations which he pro- fessed to deem unsatisfactory. Not so did they strike Theobald's contemporaries. They did not impress the men of that time as being of the nature of fly-catching practised by swallows or as displaying the characteristics of eels who wrap themselves in mud. Theobald was not only encouraged but entreated to go on with the work he had undertaken. Respect for his abihty was still further increased by the only article — at least the only article under his own name — which took any notice of the reflections cast by Pope upon himself in his treatise of the Bathos. It was in the shape of a communication to 'Mist's Journal' and appeared on April 27. This letter, had his opponent been on the same level of repute as himself, would never have met with anything but unqualified commendation. It is dignified in tone throughout. There is in it no abuse of his assailant, nor any exhibition of undue sensitive- ness to the attack which had been directed against him- self personally. He said very justly that in exposing the defects of Pope's edition he had endeavored to treat its editor with all the deference that the circumstances would permit. To deference indeed he added tender- ness. This latter is not so apparent to the modern reader. " But to set anything right," he continued, "after Mr. Pope had adjusted the whole, was a pre- sumption not to be forgiven." For so doing he had been subjected to personal attack. To this he intended to make no reply ; and there is no evidence that he ever did. Theobald felt called upon, however, to defend the 214 POPE'S PRELIMINARY ATTACK three passages from the play of 'Double Falsehood' which had been cited as specimens of bathos. He had no difficulty in pointing out places in Shakespeare hable to censure for precisely similar faults, if faults they were. Only one of these three is of any interest now, and that is due simply to the fact that it contains a line which in consequence of Pope's ridicule became early a stock quotation and has remained so to this day. It is the last verse of the following passage: " Is there a treachery like this in baseness Recorded anywhere? It is the deepest : None but itself can be its parallel." This line Pope cited in the form in which it is now generally known, — " None but himself can be his parallel, — " and declared that it was profundity itself, — " unless," he continued, " it may seem borrowed from the thought of that master of a show in Smithfield who writ in large letters over the picture of his elephant, " ' This is the greatest elephant in the world, except himself.' " * Theobald's reply to this sally is a good illustration both of the extent of his reading and of the acumen which he had brought and was stiU to bring to the task of editing Shakespeare. "Literally speaking, in- deed," he wrote, " I agree with Mr. Pope that nothing can be parallel to itself; but allowing a little for the liberty of expression, does it not plainly imply that it is a treachery which stands single for the nature of its 1 Treatise on the Bathos, ch. vii. 215 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE baseness, and has not its parallel on record, and that nothing but treachery equal to this in baseness can equal it ? " He did not content, himself, however, with argu- ment. He proceeded to point out in Plautus a piece of nonsense, if it were nonsense, of precisely the same stamp. It may be added that later in his edition of Shakespeare he cited further examples from the classic authors to keep the plirase in countenance. They were taken from Ovid, Tei-ence, and Seneca.^ It is worth while to remark that one of the examples he gave — that from the Heroules Furens of Seneca — was subsequently rediscovered several times by later writers and announced with exceeding flourish of trumpets. In 1780 a correspondent of the ' Gentleman's Magazine,' who wrote under the signature of JEneanasensis, informed the world that this celebrated line with its palpable ab- surdity had after all only the secondary merit of being a literal translation.^ Nearly a score of years later Joseph Warton made the same notable discovery. He duly recorded it with the usual remarks and the usual self-glorification. " It is a little remarkable," he wrote, "that this line of Theobald, which is thought to be a masterpiece of absurdity, is evidently copied from a line of Seneca in the Hercules Furens." ^ A controversy arose at once as to the priority in pointing out the orig- inal of this verse. The claims of JEneanasensis — who 1 Theobald's Shakespeare, vol. ir. p. 187. The passage from Seneca reads as follows ; " Quijeris Alcidae parem'? Nemo est, nisi ipse." 2 Gentleman's Magazine, November, 1 780, vol. 1. p. 507. ' Warton's Pope, vol. vi. p. 220. 216 POPE'S PRELIMINARY ATTACK turned out to be the Reverend Mr. Kynaston^ — were vigorously set forth. It was a characteristic of the ill fortune which waited upon Theobald's later reputation that men continued to quarrel over the question as to who was the first to discover something which he had discovered and publicly announced more than half a century before. But Theobald in the defence of the passage did not confine himself to the ancients. As in the case of the other passages attacked, he resorted to modern writers also and in particular to Shakespeare. He showed con- clusively that this particular line selected for animad- version was not different in character from several others to be found in the greatest of English drama- tists. These he quoted. The citations drove Pope into a corner out of which he was not able to get. He was so staggered by the examples given — one of which he did not discover till later was a mistaken one — that he was forced to take the ground that Shakespeare was as bad as Theobald himself. In the third book of 'The Dunciad' we find the line quoted again by him, though with a slight variation, in the form, " None but thyself can be thy parallel." " A marvellous line of Theobald," ran the note upon it, "unless the play called the 'Double Falsehood' be (as he would have it believed) Shakespear's. But whether the line be his or not, he proves Shakespear to have written as bad."^ 1 Nichols, vol. ii. p. 729. 2 Book 3, 1. 272, quarto of 1729. Neither line nor note is in editions of ' The Dunciad,' from 1743 on. 217 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE The controversial discussion which went on about this point furnishes a choice number of examples of that common critical imbecility which contents itself with adopting without reflection the likes and dislikes of a great author. For writing this unlucky line, as it was termed — his authorship of it was invariably assumed — Theobald was subjected to constant attack during the whole of the eighteenth century. As Eng- lishmen, however, began to study with more care their own literature, to say nothing of the literature of other lands, they found precisely similar expressions in well- known authors of every age and class. In truth this particular comparison was so frequent with the Eliza- bethan dramatists that its appearance in ' Double False- hood ' is evidence, so far as it goes, that the play belongs to the period to which it had been assigned. Gifford had a note implying this view, upon the fol- lowing passage in Massinger's ' Duke of Milan ' : " Her goodness does disdain comparison, And, but herself, admits no paralle]." ^ To attack the phrase upon the score of impropriety struck him as a lack of sense, and on the score of un- usualness as a lack of knoAvledge. It was so common, he declared, that were it necessary, he could pro- duce twenty instances from Massinger's contemporaries alone. Further, it was not peculiar to English htera- ture. It could be found in every language with which he was acquainted. Yet, he added, Theobald, "who had everything but wit on his side, is at this 1 Act iv., scene 3. 218 POPE'S PRELIMINARY ATTACK moment laboring under the consequences of his imagined defeat." i But in his letter Theobald did not limit himself to the defensive. He incidentally brought in an emenda- tion of Shakespeare which is adopted in most modern editions. It is worth recording here as an illustration of how in many instances the sense of a passage can be completely changed hj a slight change in the punctua- tion. To set right commas and points, it was the fashion with Pope and his friends to sneer at and de- preciate as something altogether trivial. How trivial it is, tlie example itself shows, whether we accept it or reject it. In ' The Merchant of Venice,' a part of Gra- tiano's speech to Bassanio, after the choice of the cas- kets has been made, ran as follows in Pope's edition : " My eyes, my lord, can look as swift as yours: You saw the mistress, 1 beheld the maid : You lov'd : I lov'd for intermission. No more pertains to me, my lord, than you."^ Pope had substantially followed the reading found in the fourth folio and adopted from it by Rowe. Theo- bald declared that he could not understand the text so printed ; and while certain modern editors have suc- ceeded in explaining it to their own satisfaction they have rarely done so to the satisfaction of anybody else. The one they give he, however, explicitly rejected. " Surely," he wrote, " he " (that is. Pope) " will hardly persuade us that intermission here means ' for want of something else to do, because he would not stand idle.'" 1 Gifford's Massinger, vol. i. p. 312. 2 Act iii., scene 2. 219 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE Theobald set out to make the passage clear, as he under- stood it, by pointing the last two lines in the following manner : " You lov'd ; I lov'd : (for intermission No more pertains to me, my lord, than you)." Later in his edition he justified the employment of in- termission in the sense of " a jaause or discontinuance of action " by other examples from Shakespeare. The concluding paragraph of this letter contained the promise of a second criticism of the second edition of Pope's Shakespeare which was expected to be brought out in the course of the year. The consideration of what was said in it will come up later. There will then be occasion to observe how well the poet remembered and resented it, and how heedful he was to misrepresent and garble and manipulate it so as to hold its author responsible for words he never wrote and opinions he never expressed. This communication to ' Mist's Jour- nal ' is Theobald's only reply, so far as we know, to the attack made upon him in the ' Miscellanies ' before the publication of ' The Dunciad.' But shortly after this third volume of the former work had come out, there had appeared in this same paper an anonymous article on its opening treatise. It Avas entitled ' An Essay on the Arts of a Poet's Sinking in Reputation,' being a Supplement to the 'Art of Sinking in Poetry.' i It wounded Pope deeply. There were things said in it 1 Mist's Journal, March 30, 1728. This article must not be con- founded with the pamphlet which came out later, — in August, 1728, — entitled ' A Supplement to the Profuud,' and attributed by Pope to Coucanen. 220 POPE'S PRELIMINARY ATTACK which rankled in his breast for years. In its way in- deed it was a masterpiece of mean insinuation. There were brought together in it all the charges against the poet's character and conduct which had been for years floating about in literary and social circles, besides those which had already found their way into print. Not only was there concentrated in it everything which could annoy and irritate, there ran through it a vein of cool contempt, which to a man of Pope's sensitive nature must have been almost as galling as the charges themselves. There is no question that the article gave expression to opinions about the poet which had become widely prevalent. It was certainly appreciated and enjoyed by some who were generally reckoned among his friends. One of his old associates in the translation of the ' Odyssey,' bore witness to the accuracy of its delineation of his character. " Mist," wrote Fenton to Broome, " had a very severe paper against him in the last jour- nal, . . . [written by one who has studied and understands him." 1 Certainly, nothing calculated to injure liim in the estimation of the public was overlooked. The poet who sets out to sink in his reputation, it was asserted, must make it a point to publish such authors as he has least studied and are most likely to miscarry under his hands. He must in revising forget to discharge the dull duty of an editor, and make it impossible to deter- mine whether his errors are due to ignorance or to rapid- ity of execution. He must lend his name for a good sum of money to promote the discredit of an exorbitant 1 Fenton to Broome, April 3, 1728, Pope's ' Works/ Tol. viii. p. 143. 221 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE subscription. He must misapprehend the meaning of passages in Greek which he has sought to turn into English. On the other hand, in his own tongue he must wrest the language of others from their natural meaning in order to serve his own purposes. He must undertake a book in his own name by subscription and get a great part of it done by assistants. He must de- vote himself to getting off on the public three new mis- cellanj'^ volumes of old and second-hand wares : for gain is the principal end of his art, and it will further furnish him an opportunity of indulging any lurking spleen which he feels. He must make it an indispensable rule to sacrifice to his " prof und wit " his friend, his modesty, his God, or any other transitory regards, in the frequent compositions he puts forth in the three different styles of the vituperative, the prurient, and the atheistical. Much more there was of the same sort. Pope chose to ascribe to Theobald the authorship of this little but venomous essay. In his list of articles published against himself he so registered it, though he put it down there as " supposed " to be by him. To this belief in its origin he certainly clung for years, if not always. The charge of having lent his name for money for the benefit of an exorbitant subscription was the one which irritated him especially. He cited it among the ' Testimonies of Authors,' prefixed to ' The Dunciad,' as having been made in this article by one " whom," he said, " I take to be Mr. Theobald." Three years after, we find him expressing his resentment about it and still imputing definitely to the same person the circulation of the story, if not its invention. In Novem- 222 POPE'S PRELIMINARY ATTACK ber, 1731, with this very matter in miud, he wrote to Tonson that he had suffered not a Uttle on that pub- lisher's account, by one he of Theobald's venting.^ No positive evidence can be secured either for or against this ascription of the authorship. If Theobald were really the writer of the essay, he would have exhibited a capacity for flinging dirt which Pope himself might have envied. On the surface the view is not reason- able. It displays none of the characteristics of his ordi- naiy style. Theobald had ability of a certain sort ; but it was not the sort of ability here manifested. It did not lie in insinuative vituperation. But, whether written by him or not, Pope chose to hold him respon- sible for it ; and the cleverness as well as the malevo- lence of the attack, while furnishing the most palpable proof that its author had the least possible right to be reckoned a dunce, would, nevertheless, still further stimulate the angrj' poet to make the man to whom he attributed it occupy the most prominent position in his forthcoming satire. For aU this time, Pope had been forging a thunder- bolt which he purposed to launch upon all his foes; and, in his eyes, all were foes who did not assent to the opinion of his character and genius which he assumed for himself. The conception had been for a long while in his mind. Whether or not it was desirable or feas- ible to carry it into execution, he had been uncertain. The project had been taken up occasionally only to be laid aside. But the needed incentive had been furnished in the damaging criticism which had demolished his pre- 1 Pope's ' Works,' vol. ix. p. 551, letter of November 14, 1731. 223 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE tensions as an editor. In its author lie had found at last his hero. Accordingly, tlie time had now arrived to put iuto effect his long delayed intention. Not all his plans indeed had succeeded. But few of the men whose ini- tials had heen given in the treatise on the Bathos had been induced to make any retort. Still, there was enough of clamor, even if contributed mainly by the irresponsible and the unassailed, to furnish him with what might be deemed sufficient justification for the next step he was about to take ; for, as it has already been intimated, it was not a reason for his course that he was after, but a pretext. Accordingly, on the 18th of May, 1728, appeared 'The Dunciad ' in its original form, and with Theobald as its original hero. The fron- tispiece represented an owl perched upon a pile of books by various authors ; and among these was conspicuously visible the title of ' Shakespeare Restored.' 224 CHAPTER XII THE ORIGINAL ' DUNCIAD ' ' The Dunciad ' in its original fonn is the greatest satire in the English language. It suffers, as does all satire of even the highest order, from the fact that the individuals and incidents that excite the real or assumed indignation of the author become dim even to the men of the generation immediately succeeding, and with the lapse of time often fade away entirely. The persons are not known, the allusions are not understood. The point of keen and delicate thrusts is largely and sometimes wholly missed. Still ' The Dunciad,' in spite of the vast number of names it records, has been but little affected by the ignorance of the age and the men which has come to prevail. The satire in it against individuals is often so general that what has been said of one would do equally well for another. In fact, at the very time it did equally well. There is nothing more characteristic of the poem than the extent to which the names were dropped, resumed, exchanged, and substituted for one another in successive editions. The attack apparently so personal became, in consequence, as impersonal as if a fictitious designation had been employed. But far more than this, there were in the work passages of brilliant 15 225 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE poetry which lifted it out of the region of tlie particular into that of the universal. This is all true of ' The Dunciad ' in its original form. It is altogether less true of it as we find it in modern editions. The changes necessitated by the recast of the poem have largely impaired its excellence as a work of art. What was originally the leading motive has be- come a subject of merely incidental allusion. The sub- stitution of Gibber for Theobald as its hero utterly destroyed the unity of the poem, involved the rejection or misapplication of some of its wittiest lines, and rendered pointless much of its keenest satire. The recast which owed its origin to an ebullition of personal anger and the keen suffering caused the poet by a most effective re- joinder to an attack of his own, has been defended by the poorest kind of inconclusive reasoning. The result it- self has shown the folly of the action taken. The change of heroes is the main reason why ' The Dunciad ' is now so little read, and with so much difficulty understood. It has lost all the interest which it originally had as the greatest literary production to which Shakespearean con- troversy has given birth. This interest would have gone on increasingly with the constantly increasing attention paid later to everything connected with the life and works of the dramatist. Furthermore the change was absurd in itself. Whatever were CoUey Gibber's defects, they were not in the least those belonging to a dunce of any sort, still less — if the expression be permitted — of the sort of dunce which Pope set out to depict. The labored sophistry put forth by partisans of Pope to de- fend this unhappy change have had little other result 226 THE ORIGINAL 'DUNCIAD' than to lead the reader to believe that they are uncon- sciously justifying their own pretensions to be included in a work of the same character. ' The Dunciad,' however, was far from being directed against Theobald alone. In it Pope expended upon every one he hated or distrusted the stores of wrath which he had been accumulating since his first produc- tion had appeared, about twenty years before. All who had ever found fault or were suspected of having found fault with his writings or his character were compre- hended under the general name of Dunces. No one was too insignificant to escape ; no one too exalted not to be alluded to if not to be struck at directly. While, there- fore, the satire was mainly directed — especially the first book — against Theobald and his metiiod of editing, the controversy about Shakespeare became involved with the innumerable other quarrels in which Pope had been and still was concerned. It is impossible to disentangle it from these, with which it was united and into which it was not infrequently merged. Hence a fuller treatment of 'The Dunciad' becomes necessary than the particular controversy itself would here demand. It is the more important to furnish a complete history of the circum- stances under which the original editions appeared, be- cause ' The Dunciad,' as a Shakespearean document can hardly be said to be known now. It has practically passed away not merely from the memory, but from the sight of men. The ' Dunciad ' which holds so conspicuous a place in early Shakespearean controversy has not been in exist- ence since 1743. Its place was then taken by another 227 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE work bearing the same name, including most of the same matter, but so modified in details, so shorn of certain of its previous characteristics, that no one could now get from it a conception of the feelings and motives which originally brought it into being. In its very earliest form it has occasionally been reprinted in editions of Pope purporting to be complete. In the fuller and more important form found in the editions of 1729 much of it has never been reprinted at all save in the most frag- mentary way. The original notes have in a number of cases disappeared with the lines to which they were alone applicable. Several of those aimed especially at Theo- bald, and designed to satirize his method of dealing with the text of Shakespeare, were necessarily swept away when Gibber was made hero in his place. The conse- quence is that the attack and defence to which the work gave rise as well as the causes to which it owed its own existence, are no longer comprehensible to him who reads its contents in modern copies of the poem. Very few are familiar with the varying forms it underwent in suc- cessive editions. It is indeed in only a very limited number of the great libraries of the world that they would find the facilities for making themselves so. There is consequently not only ample excuse but absolute ne- cessity for going into the subject with a degree of detail which would be unjustifiable were the materials upon which the conclusions are based generally accessible to students of Shakespeare. The facts connected with the first appearance of this satire shall be given as concisely as is consistent with any clear understanding of the circumstances which are 228 THE ORIGINAL 'DUNCIAD' to be narrated. The fundamental distinction between the work in its original and in its present form must be kept steadily in view. ' The Dunciad,' as the modern reader finds it, is a poem in four books, with CoUey Gib- ber as its hero, and Theobald only incidentally attacked. As a factor in Shakespearean controversy it is a poem in three books with Lewis Theobald as its hero, and Gibber incidentally attacked. In its very earliest form it came out shortly after the middle of May, 1728, in a small duodecimo volume. No name was on the title-page except that of the publisher, A. Dodd. This was a bookseller whose place of business is put down in other volumes in which he or she was concerned as "without Temple Bar." The frontispiece represented an owl holding in his beak a label having on it the words "The Dunciad," and perched upon a pile of books. This was built up of the works of contempo- rary authors — Blackmore, Ozell, Dennis, and Gibber, as well as Theobald — whom Pope despised or af- fected to despise. The volume also contained on the title-page " Dublin printed ; London reprinted," and the date, 1728. It had been and it continued to be adver- tised in the newspapers as the second edition ; ^ in the book itself this particular misstatement was implied, but not asserted. Further, special notice was given that the 1 E. g : " This day is published The Dunciad. An heroic Poem. The second edition. Dublin printed; London, reprinted for A. Dodd. Price one shilling." " N. B. Next week will be published, The Progress of Dulness, By an eminent hand.'' ('The Country Journal : or The Craftsman,' Saturday, May25, 1728, No. 99.) Pope, in a letter to Lord Oxford, dated May 20, speaks of the work being out, but says that he had not seen it. Pope's ' Works,' vol. viii. p. 235. 229 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE next week would be published ' The Progress of Dul- ness ' by an eminent hand. This announcement of a work not in existence and never contemplated was a further mystification which was kept up still later. It appeared on the verso of the last leaf of some of the editions of 1728. The words " Dubhn printed," were designed to create the belief that the work had been first published in Ire- land. An additional motive was to convey the impres- sion that some one there — presumably Swift — was its author or had at least some share in its production. To strengthen this view the dedication to him under the various names of " Dean, Drapier, Bickerstaif , or Gul- liver," which had been prepared, was for the time being suppressed. The belief that he was its writer would fur- ther spring naturally from the assertion contained in the publisher's preface that the unknown author had a better opinion of Pope's integrity, joined with a greater per- sonal love for him than any other of his numerous friends and admirers. When the following year Pope brought out ' The Dunciad ' in its full form, he pretended that the preface was throughout a piece of continued irony ; and that two days after the appearance of the satire, every one knew that he himself was its author. This particu- lar portion of the prefatory matter belongs to that species of irony which needs notes and commentaries to explain its intent. Certainly its statements wrought at the time the desired effect of misleading the public. Swift was for a while widely supposed to have had something to do with the preparation of the satire, even if he were not its actual writer. " Fierce is the present war among 230 THE ORIGINAL 'DUNCIAD' authors," was an observation made in a work which ap- peared almost contemporaneously with 'The Duneiad.' " Swift," it added, " had mauled Theobald, but Theobald had mauled Pope." ^ Communication in those days be- tween the two capitals was slow and unsatisfactory. A mystification of the kind here practised could now be dispelled in a day. Then it took weeks and even months to clear it up, if it were ever cleared up at all. The statement that the book was a reprint led also to the conclusion that it had not only been brought out originally in Dublin, but that it had been brought out the year before. This came necessarily into conflict with Pope's assertion that it owed its existence to the clamor which had been aroused by the contents of the final volume of the ' Miscellanies.' Still, this deception as regards the time of the first appearance of ' The Duneiad ' was never abandoned. On the con- trary, it was upheld and strengthened. In later editions " written in the year 1727 " appeared pretty regularly on the title-page. This is one of the class of truths which confer and are intended to confer upon their utterers the benefit of a lie. Part of the work — certainly nearly all the first book relating to Theobald — must have been written in 1727. To this extent full tribute was ren- dered to veracity. But the reader would be sure to draw the conclusion from these unusual words on a title-page that " written in the year 1727 " meant also that it had been published that year. The deception was carried further. In later editions — in some indeed 1 The Twickenham Hotchpotch, p. 4. 231 THE TEXT OP SHAKESPEARE which have " written in the year 1727 " on the title-page — a note in the body of the work tells us that it was written in 1726 and published the following year. As there was no London edition of this date, a Dublin one which never had a being was long the despair of bibliog- raphers. The falsification was never cleared up till the latter half of the nineteenth century. ' The Dunciad ' in its first form contained but few notes. These, save once or twice where they touched upon Theobald, were of a purely explanatory character. The names of the numerous living persons referred to in the poem were very rarely printed in full. Instead, either the initial and final letters were given or the ini- tial letter only. The hero, of course, was an exception. He invariably appeared as Tibbald. Where nothing but the initial letter was found, the person intended could only be guessed at, unless he appeared at the end of the line. Then the ryme would ordinarily indicate who was meant. The identification, easy in some instances, was, however, difficult in others. The uncertainty gave opportunity for wide conjecture. As some of the autliors were hardly known at all outside of their im- mediate circle, as some of the incidents referred to were even less known, as some of the scandal suggested rather than asserted could hardly be said to be known at all, it was inevitable that public curiosity should be much piqued and that mistakes should be occasionally made. Blunders were committed when even the first and last letters of the name were given. A gross one occurred in the Dublin reprint of the original which came out THE ORIGINAL 'DUNCIAD' the same year. In one line of the first book the goddess of Dulness is represented as having seen " furious ^ ^ foam." 1 A Key which soon appeared explained this as meaning the somewhat noted puhhsher, Dunton, whom Pope subsequently described in a note as " a broken bookseller and abusive scribbler." 2 But in this Dublin edition of 1728 the name, there printed in full, appeared as Dryden. A blunder of this sort, however agreeable to Swift, could hardly have been anything but vexatious to Pope. Yet it is a remarkable illus- tration of the reputation which the poet's tortuous course has secured him in modern times that he has been suspected of deliberately contriving such a possible interpretation of the initial and final letters. As the in- clusion of the great name of Dryden would have utterly destroyed the force of his attack upon other authors, there seems little reason to doubt the sincerity of the annoyance he expressed at the blunder. Still, in one way it did him good service. It gave him an additional pretext for denouncing these early editions as surrep- titious and incorrect. If doubt as to the proper identification could prevail at the capital, it would be sure to exist on a much greater scale the moment the book reached places dis- tant from London. By readers in them, no possible clue could be found in many instances which would enable them to fill up the blank spaces with the letters neces- sary to indicate the name. Hence a clamor at once arose for a Key which would supply the needed informa- > Dunciad, 1728, Book 1, 1. 94. ^ Note to line 136, Book 2, quarto of 1729; line 144 in modern editions. 233 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE tion. The demand must surely have been foreseen. At all events, a little sheet of four pages, made speedily its appearance, containing the names in full of the persons whose initial or initial and final letters had been given. The chances are that this key either owed its existence to Pope's instigation or was brought out with his conni- vance. It was exactly of the same size as the duo- decimo page and could easily be bound up with it. Even had he not furnished it himself, he could not but have been aware that there was one man Avho could be rehed upon to produce something of the sort. This was the indefatigable Curll. Scarcely had the satire ap- peared when that publisher advertised a Key.^ From his house came successive editions of it which were made to correspond with the successive changes of name in the text. The poem itself was ushered in with a sort of preface written really by the author, but purporting to come from the publisher. It was exceedingl}'- laudatory of Pope, and of its perfect sincerity in this particular, there is nat- urally no question. Otherwise it abounded in equivo- cal phraseology capable of being interpreted in various ways, as well as in unmistakably contemptuous allu- sions to the men who were made the objects of attack. It started out with the assertion that if any scandal was vented against a person of high distinction in the state or in literature, it usually met with a quiet reception. On the other hand, if a known scoundrel or blockhead 1 " I see Curll lias advertised a Key to the Dunciad. I have heen asked for one by several; I wish the true one was come out." (Lord Oxford to Pope, in letter dated May 27, 1728, Pope's ' Works,' vol. viii. p. 236.) 234 THE ORIGINAL 'DUN CI AD' chanced to be touched upon, a whole legion of scribblers were at once up in arms. This condition of things had just been illustrated. For the past two months the town had been persecuted with pamphlets, advertise- ments, letters, and weekly essays, not only against the writings of Mr. Pope, but against his character and per- son. This statement was, as we have seen, an exaggera- tion at the time itself; later it was converted into a gross exaggeration. The actual facts and the order of events naturally soon became dim in men's memory; and the editions which appeared in the following decade contained a series of statements which were not only contradictory to the actual facts, but to some extent contradictory to each other. In them, in a note to the original preface, which had been relegated to the appen- dix. Pope remarked that in his treatise on the Bathos the species of bad writers had been arranged in classes, and initial letters of names prefixed for the most part at random. But the number of these men was so great that some one or other of them took every letter to himself. Consequently all of them fell into a violent fuiy, and for a half a year or more the common newspapers — in most of which they had some property as being hired writers — were filled with the most abusive falsehood and scur- rihty they could possibly devise. This was what had led to the publication of ' The Dunciad.' Accordingly, the two months which had elapsed between the ' Miscel- lanies ' and the satire had been extended to more than six. The score of articles, long or short, that had ap- peared, and for some of which the poet was responsible himself, had been swelled into a number indefinitely 235 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE large. Furthermore, a work which according to the title-page or notes was written in 1727 had been occa- sioned by scurrilities and falsehoods that were not pro- duced tiU 1728. Against these virulent attacks the preface went on to say that there had been no reply. Of the men who had received pleasure from Pope's writings — amounting by modest computation to more than one hundred thou- sand in the British islands, besides those dwelling in regions outside — not a single person had been forward to stand up in his defence, save the author of this satire. That he was an intimate friend of the poet, though plainly not the poet himself, was clear. Not a man had been attacked in it who had not previously begun the warfare. Further, how the publisher came to get hold of the work was a matter of no consequence. Having, however, come into the possession of it, he felt that it was wrong to detain it from the public, because the names which were its chief ornaments were daily dying off — dying off in truth so fast that delay would soon render the poem unintelligible. He would not, how- ever, have the reader too anxious to decipher from the initials used the persons indicated. Even after he had f6und them out, he would probably know no more of them than before. Still, it was better to present them in the form in which they appeared rather than give fic- titious names. Such a course would only multiply the scandal. Were the hero to be designated by some such appellation as Codrus it would have been applied to sev- eral persons instead of being limited to one. AU this unjust detraction was obviated by calling him Theobald, 236 THE ORIGINAL 'DUNCIAD' which by good luck happened to be the name of a real person. The foregoing are the parts of the preface which have any interest for us here. Its whole character had been determined by the change of plan which had taken place. The satire had not come out in the manner at first contemplated. Not even was the name preserved which had been given it when the poet had planned its creation. As originally conceived, it had been the in- tention to call it 'The Progress of Dulness,' and the matter contained in its third book answered pretty ac- curately to the title. But when the design had been largely modified, when by the numerous additions and the introduction of a hero personalities instead of gene- ralities had become the main instead of the subsidiary staple of the satire, the poet's natural timidity made him hold back for a while from carrying out in its complete- ness the scheme he had devised. Accordingly, in the first edition practically everything but the text was shorn away. Not only was nothing said to establish decisively the authorship, but the very advertisement that the satire was speedily to be followed by a poem entitled ' The Progress of Dulness ' and written by an eminent hand, would tend to divert from Pope the sus- picion of having been the writer of the one which pre- ceded it. That the poet himself was soon to bring out a work with the designation just given, had got more or less abroad. An article in a contemporary newspaper as- serted this distinctly. It was transmitted by a corre- spondent who signed himseU A. B., and was attributed 237 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE by Pope to Dennis. This ascription of the autliorsliip is probably correct, for it exhibits some choice charac- teristics of that master-critic's vigorous vituperation. After attacking Pope's writings generally, and speci- fically his treatise on the Bathos, he closed with a paragraph referring to the forthcoming work and its author. " Yet, notwithstanding his ignorance and stu- pidity," remarked the writer, " this animalculum of an author is, forsooth ! at this very juncture writing the Progress of Dulness. Yes ! the author of Windsor Forest, of the Temple of Fame, of the What d'ye Call it ; nay, the author even of the Profund is writing the Progress of Dulness ! A most vain and impertinent enterprise ! For they who have read his several pieces which we mentioned above, have read the Progress of Dulness ; a progress that began in Windsor Forest, and ended in the Profund; as the short progress of the devil's hogs ended in the depth of the sea." ^ This small duodecimo of 1728, without author's name and practically without commentary, was consequently put forth as a feeler. If it failed, the course he had adopted put Pope in a position to disown it ; if it suc- ceeded he could reap all the benefit and would be en- couraged to go on and bring out the complete edition he had in mind and largely in readiness. This intention had been distinctly hinted in the preface. " If it pro- voke the author," said the theoretical publisher, "to give us a more perfect edition, I have my end." As it turned out, as indeed it might confidently have been expected to turn out, the precaution was wholly un- 1 Daily Journal, May 11, 1728. 238 THE ORIGINAL 'DUNCIAD' necessary. The reception the work met showed Pope that he had nothing to fear from the indifference of the public. The town, to use the phrase then current, had never before seen served up for its delectation such a mess of scandal, spite, misrepresentation, malice, and all uncharitableness, couched in brilliant verse, abounding in pointed lines and containing passages of rare beauty. The personalities tickled the most jaded appetite for invective and abuse. Of themselves, they would have averted failure even had the wit been less. Nor, further, had there been neglect to appeal to the innate nastiness of human nature by descriptions which it was disgraceful to write and which still remain disgusting to read. All doubt about the complete success of the work was at once removed. On every side it produced comment, inquiry, indignation. Every one interested in literature was eager to read it. Every one who had even the humblest share in producing literature was eager to see if he were in it, to rejoice if he were not, to condole — though 'doubtless, after the manner of men, secretly amused — with friends who had been included in its wide-embracing scope. The almost instantaneous suc- cess of the satire is established by the advertisement of a second edition on the first of June.^ This contained the further announcement that speedily would follow ' The Progress of Dulness,' which would serve as an explana- tion of the poem. It was accompanied with a quotation from ' Paradise Lost ' which shows the sense of exulta- 1 ' Mist's Journal,' June 1 : ' The Craftsman,' June 1 , 1 728. This does not seem to be " the second edition " of the previous advertisements. 239 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE tion that now filled the poet's heart at the success of his experiment. The passage, of which the last line is Pope's, reads as follows : " (lie) as a herd Of goats and tim'rous flocks together thronged Drove them before him Thunderstruck, pursued Into the vast Profuud." A few days later — on June 8 — followed the advertise- ment of the third edition. These were not all which came out this year. Pope himself in his correspondence spoke of the five surreptitious editions which appeared before the quarto of 1729; and in the list he probably did not include the reprint published in Ireland.^ 1 What and how many editions there were of 'The Duneiad' in 1728 are facts not yet definitely ascertained. Tlie list given from ' Notes and Queries' in Elwin and Courthope's ' Works of Pope,' vol. iv. pp. 299-301, numbers five; but included are the Dublin reprint of that year, and three impressions fiom the same type. There is no mention of an edition — of which Pope first spoke in a note to line 86 of the first book iu the quarto of 1729 — ■ which for " glad chains " reads " gold chains." " The ignorance of these moderns ! " runs the note on glad chains. " This was altered iu one edition to ' Gold Cliaius,' showing more regard to the metal of which the chains of aldermen are made, than to the beauty of the Latinism and Grecism, nay of figurative speech itself. — Lcetas segetes, glad, for making glad, &c. — ScK.'' The edition with the line reading " gold chains " is in the lilirary of Yale University, and is distinct from any of the others described. The substantives with scarcely an exception begin with capital letters. It has on the verso of the last page the announcement found in the news- paper advertisements " Speedily will be published. The Progress of Dnl- ness, an Historical Poem. By an eminent hand. Price Is. 6d." In the first line also it has Books and the spelling Interludes in the note on Hey- wood on page 5. It seems to correspond to the C. 0. mentioned in a com- munication to 'Notes and Queries,' 5th Series, vol. xii. p. 304, Oct. 18, 1879. 240 CHAPTER XIII 'THE DUNCIAD' of 1729 The success of ' The Dunciad ' in its incomplete form dispelled any idea Pope may have entertained of keep- ing the authorship of the poem concealed. He accord- ingly reverted to his first plan and set out to carry into effect the intimation given in the publisher's preface of a more perfect edition. At this he labored during a good share of the rest of the year. In the preparation of the notes he secured to a slight extent the assistance of his friends ; but it was to a very slight extent. Most of them are unmistakably of his composition. Still, he never scrupled to assert that he wrote none of them at all whenever it became convenient for him to disavow their authorship. The work was now to come out with all the learned paraphernalia attending the publication of Greek and Latin classics. Prolegomena, appendices, and textual notes were to be supplied. With the elab- orate furniture of ' The Dunciad ' all modern students of the poet are familiar, though, while the general plan has remained unaltered, there has been great variation in de- tails. Much of the commentary had unquestionably been prepared long before. But the pieces that appeared after the publication of ' The Dunciad ' of 1728 gave Pope 10 241 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE new matter for note and comment ; and every opportunity for statement or misstatement, which he believed would serve his turn, was sedulously improved. By the end of the year the new edition was ready for the press. The news of its coming was spread abroad before it actually came. To Warburton, Theobald Avrote in March, 1729, that he would hear " from our friend Con- canen " — a friendship which Warburton later took care to forget — that the Parnassian war was likely to break out fiercely again, and that ' The Dunciad ' had been pom- pously reprinted in quarto, and that its publication was every day expected.^ At the very time this letter was written the work had been advertised as published,^ and had already been dispersed abroad to some extent by the agency of three good-natured noblemen whom Pope had prevailed upon to act in a certain way as his representa- tives and accept an assignment of the temporary owner- ship of the volume before it was allowed to go regularly into the hands of the trade. In the dedication of a col- lection of pieces about ' The Dunciad ' which appeared three years later the statement was made by Pope, through the agency of Savage, that " on the 12tli of March, 1729, at St. James's, that poem was presented to the king and queen (who had before been pleased to read it) by the Right Honorable Sir Robert Walpole; and some days after the whole impression was taken and dis- persed by several noblemen and persons of the first dis- 1 Letter of March 18, 1729, in Nichols, vol. ii. p. 209. 2 " This week is published in a beautiful letter in quarto, A Compleat and Correct Edition of the Dunciad, with the Prolegomena, etc., etc. Printed for A Dod, near Temple Bar.'' ('London Gazette,' No. 6760, Tuesday, March 11, to Saturday, March 15.) 242 ' THE DUN CI AD' OF 1729 tinction.i " In this same dedication the ridiculous story was gravely told — it was safe then to tell it — that on the day the satire was regularly put to sale, a crowd of authors besieged the publisher's shop, with entreaties, advices, threats of law, even cries of treason, in order to hinder the coming out of the work, while, on the other hand, the booksellers and hawkers made as eager efforts to procure it.^ This particular specimen of mendacity, of no importance among the more serious mendacities con- cocted, would not even need an allusion here, had it not been cited, though not certified to, by Dr. Johnson, and in consequence been seriously repeated as a fact by some of Pope's biographers. This new edition, entitled ' The Dunciad Variorum,' purported to be the first complete and correct one. In form it was an elaborate quarto. It did its proper duty in denouncing the previous ones as surreptitious and inaccurate. The owl of the frontispiece was discarded. In its place appeared an ass, chewing a thistle, and laden with a panier of books upon which an owl was perched. The titles of the volumes were distinctly legible, and works of Welsted, Ward, Dennis, Oldmixon and Mrs. Haywood, and plays of Theobald made up the list. Strewn about in various places were copies of certain newspapers. In the poem itself the names of the persons mentioned in it were, with about half a dozen exceptions, printed in full. There were embraced in it, besides the commentary, several other pieces. 1 Dedication to the Earl of Middlesex of a Collection of Pieces pub- lished on Occasion of the Dunciad, p. vi. 2 Ibid. 243 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE Among these was a prefatory letter to the publisher defending the work itself from charges which had been brought against it, and exhausting the resources of the language in celebrating the virtues of all sorts of its author. This letter was signed by an obscure and inoffensive private gentleman named William Cleland. It is perfectly well known now, it was perfectly well known then, save to the thick-and-thin partisans of the poet, that it was written by Pope himself. The notes were in some instances pretendedly philological, occasionally explanatory, but in most cases personal. Several of the first class purported to come from Theo- bald himself. These were mainly devoted to casting ridicule upon him and the methods he had employed in establishing the text of Shakespeare. The very opening note of the commentary is a fair example of the nature of these attacks. It is on the title given to the poem; and as the occasion of it has never been set forth, it may be well to instance it here as a fair specimen of the pretendedly textual annotations which the work contained. The spelling of Shake- speare's name without the final e had been general since the Restoration. It so appeared on the title-page of the second impression of the third folio, which bears the date of 1664. So it was spelled in the fourth folio and in the editions of Rowe and Pope. Theobald, who liad the scholar's instinct for accuracy in details, followed the original authorities in adding the e to the end of the word. He made no comment upon it ; he simply used it. This was enough, however, to give Pope the pre- text he needed. On the very first page of the poem he 244 'THE DUNCIAD' OF 1729 had two elaborate notes on the proper w burst. The whole matter, as well as the ill-feeling engendered by it, had now ceased to interest the public. Very few traces of its existence can be discovered in the newspaper press of the period under consideration. All this was suddenly changed by the publication in March, 1729, of the so-called ' Dunciad Variorum.' The war broke out at once with redoubled furj^. In 'The Dunciad' of 1728 it was the verse that kindled anger. In the enlarged edition of the following year the same result was produced by the prose of the pro- legomena and appendix, and especially of the notes. In all these Pope represented himself as having acted entirely on the defensive. He had been for years a long-suffering but silent victim to slanders which he had now set out to expose, and to slanderers whom he was determined to crush. In consequence the commen- tary was full of severe reflections upon the lives and works of his enemies or supposed enemies. The hero of the poem was but one of a number upon whom the censure fell. Dennis, Welsted, Moore-Smythe, Con- canen, Ozell, Giles Jacob, and numerous others were made the subjects of attack in his annotations. Their obscure origin was dwelt upon, as also their detestable practices in assailing Pope and his friends. It is very noticeable, indeed, how very sensitive the poet was to anything that had been said in disparagement of the 323 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE unfortunate play, ' Three Hours after Marriage,' whicli bore Gay's name, but in which Arbuthuot and he were charged with having a hand. The ill-success of that piece was the principal cause of Pope's henceforth life-long hostility to the stage. No one cast any reflections upon it without incurring an enmity that never died out. Breval had satirized it in a farce called ' The Confederates ' ; eleven years after he was pilloried for the act in 'The Dunciad.' The same fate befell Charles Johnson for reflecting upon it in the prologue to ' The Sultaness ' which was brought out in 1717. Giles Jacob, in his ' Poetical Register ' had given a far from unfavorable estimate of Gay and his poetry. But in the account of his theatrical pieces he observed of the play in question that it "has some extraordinary scenes in it which seemed to trespass on female modesty." ^ This was a very mild way of describing the gross immorality of a piece of which Welsted justly said, it " was so lewd, E'en bullies blushed and beanx astonished stood. "^ But mild as it was, it was enough. Jacobs was hence- forth a marked man. He took his place in ' The Dun- ciad ' with a note about his volume containing the lives of the poets, that "he very grossly and unprovoked abused in that book the author's friend, Mr. Gay."" We can get from this specimen some conception of 1 Poetical Register, toI. ii. p. 114. 2 Palsemon to Cajliaat Bath ; or the Triumvirate, 1717. 3 Note to line 149 of Book 3, editions of 1729. But this part of the Qote was not in the quarto ; it did not appear till the GilHver octavo. 324 ARRANGEMENTS FOR THEOBALD'S EDITION Pope's idea of gross abuse, when directed toward him- self and his allies. But however much other persons took part in the various controversies that arose from the publication of the 'Dunciad Variorum,' it is Theobald alone who con- cerns us here. He could not fail to feel keenly the abusive picture given of himself, which multitudes would accept as a genuine portrayal of his character and actions, and as a matter of fact have accepted. Atten- tion has already been called to his determination not to return railing for raihng. In his letter to 'Mist's Journal' some months before, communicating his proposals for the publication of his three volumes, he had distinctly proclaimed his intention of not replying in kind to the attacks aimed at himself. " As I endeavored," he said, " in mj ' Shakespeare Restored ' to treat Mr. Pope with all becoming deference, so I shall carefully avoid in these volumes any anunadversions that may impeach me of ill manners. And as to follow him in his scurrilities I should think too great a reproach upon myself : so to name him oftener than there is a necessity for it in a work where he has been so egregiously mistaken, I shall think it doing him too much honor." ^ To this resolution Theobald adhered faithfully to the last. At times indeed he was tempted to break silence and assume the offensive. Early in 1730 he consulted Warburton about the advisability of publishing some comments occasioned by the translation of Homer.^ His proposal apparently met with the approval of his 1 ' Mist's Journal,' No. 166, June 22, 1728. 2 Letter to Warburton, March 10, 1730, Nichols, vol. ii. p. 551. 325 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE correspondent; but fortunately he never carried the project in effect. If right, he could only have made a further exposure of Pope's lack of scholarship, which scholars already knew fully, and for which none of the poet's readers cared a particle. There was in conse- quence nothing to be gained and everything to be risked by an undertaking of this sort. Theobald was not a writer who could have shone in a controversy where the knowledge was all on his side and the wit on the other. He was not one of that order of scholars who bear their load of learning lightly as a flower. He would have sunk under it. He would have written on matters in which hardly anybody took interest, in a way which would have destroyed the interest of the very few that did. Theobald's intention to make no reply was well known to friends as well as foes. Cooke, in his revised edition of ' The Battle of the Poets,' ^ made a distinct reference to the resolution in the following lines : " Pope and his forces disappointed bend Their fury doubled on great Shakespeare's friend. The style of porters he would bring in use, As if all wit consisted in abuse ; But Theobald, in keener weapons strong, Made his revenge to prove the foe was wrong ; He wisely sees, while envious slanders fail, The better partis to convince, not rail." Theobald in fact had a curious confidence in the ultimate triumph of truth, which has about it, when we consider I Edition of 1728, p. 32. 326 ARRANGEMENTS FOR THEOBALD'S EDITION what has actually happened, something almost pathetic. The only way he proposed to defend himself was by ex- posing the blunders of his adversary. "For myself, you know," he wrote to Warburton, "I have purposed to reply only in Shakespeare." ^ As time went on, he was less and less inclined to retaliate by personal attack, in spite of the persistent provocation he was receiving. But though Theobald took no notice of the attacks upon his writings scattered through the notes to ' The Dunciad,' there were one or two which reflected upon his moral character. These stood on a different footing and demanded in consequence a different attitude. Pope, after stating that the hero of his poem had produced many forgotten plays, poems, and other pieces, went on to put down as a fact that he was the author of several anonymous letters in praise of them in ' Mist's Journal.' This assertion, as gratuitous as it was false, Theobald let pass without comment; but not so the personal griev- ance which Pope formulated immediately after. It was the very same which he had already specified at the end of his second edition of Shakespeare. Theobald had not come forward to assist him as he ought and when he ought. While he himself had been engaged upon the text of the dramatist he had requested all those interested in the plays to furnish him with whatever contributions they could to render the work more perfect. Theobald, however, had chosen to keep the results of his investiga- tion to himself, obviously intending to make the use of them he did. " During the space of two years," ran this portion of the note, " while Mr. Pope was preparing his 1 Nichols, vol. ii. p. 248, letter of Oct. 25, 1729. 327 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE edition of Shakespear, and published advertisements requesting all lovers of the author to contribute] to a more perfect one; this Restorer (who had then some correspondence with him, and was soliciting favors, by letters) did wholly conceal his design, 'till after its publication." ^ The charge that while contemplating the publication of emendations of his own to Shakespeare and refusing aid to Pope, at the very time he was begging favors from him, was one to which Theobald felt bound to reply. Accordingly a few days after the publication of ' The Dunciad Variorum ' he addressed a letter on the subject to the editor — or, as the style then was, to the author — of the ' Daily Journal.' ^ Before any impartial tribunal the reply would have been deemed conclusive. Inciden- tally he disposed of the first assertion. " To say I con- cealed my design," he wrote, "is a slight mistake ; for I had no such certain design till I saw how incorrect an edition Mr. Pope had given the public." But his main object was to defend himself from the charge of ingrati- tude for the favors he had received. One favor, indeed, he had requested of Pope. After he had brought out a play upon the stage — he did not specify which one — • he asked him to assist him in a few tickets towards his benefit. About a month later he leceived his tickets back with the excuse from the poet that he had been all the while from home, and had not received the parcel until it was too late to do anything with it. I Dnnciad, quarto of 1729. Book 1, line 106. The note is not in modern editions. " Daily Journal, April 17, 1729. Eeprinted in Nichols, vol. ii. p. 214, as addressed to Concanen. 328 ARRANGEMENTS FOR THEOBALD'S EDITION The excuse was a civil one ; it was possibly true, it was undoubtedly believed by its recipient to be true. At all events it led him, when he put forth proposals for his translation of ^schylus, to solicit Pope to recommend his design, if it did not interfere with the success of his version of the ' Odyssey.' To this Pope replied very cor- dially in a letter from which Theobald quoted the exact words. He expressed his pleasure that the latter had undertaken the work, and would be glad to do what he could to aid it ; and though he felt a repugnance and in- deed an inability to solicit subscriptions for his own trans- lation, still for Theobald he would ask those of his friends with whom he was familiar enough to ask for anything of such a nature. The asking was pretty cer- tainly never performed ; if so, it was wholly unsuccess- ful. From that day to the publication of his ' Sliake- speare Restored,' Theobald added that he had never received one further line from J\h-. Pope, liad never had an intimation of a single subscriber secured by his interest, nor even an order that on the list should bo put down his own name. Pope was certainly under no obligation to subscribe for books he did not want. His own success that way had doubtless led to his being pestered with constant applications of the sort. But under the circumstances it was hardly worth while to taunt his antagonist with soliciting favors which he in turn had half promised to grant and had wholly neglected to perform. Theobald added that he would never have troubled the public with these facts, had not the insinuation been industriously circulated to hurt his interest in the subscription for his 329 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE ' Eemarks on Shakespeare ' which was shortly to appear, and for the play which was designed for his benefit at Drury Lane the following week. He concluded with an allusion to Pope's habit of personal attack. " It is my misfortune," he said, " I can boast of but a very scanty interest and much less merit ; and consequently both are the more easily to be shocked. I had no method but this of appealing to those many, whom I had not the honor of approaching for their favor; and of humbly hoping it the rather, because all my poor attempts in writing are calculated to entertain, and none at the expense of any man's character." No one is likely to deny that Theobald was fully jus- tified in setting his conduct in a proper light before the public. It was natural that he should object to being held up to general reprobation as exhibiting ingratitude for favors he had never received. The account just given of the circumstances was never controverted nor even dis- puted. But also the accusation itself was never retracted. If anything, it was strengthened rather than weakened in the editions of ' The Dunciad ' that followed. In the second octavo following the quarto of 1729 Pope paraded the remark of Theobald that he had for years been en- gaged in the study of Shakespeare as a f uU confirmation of the truth of his own original assertion that the design of bringing out a treatise of the character he had pro- duced had been carefully concealed. " Which he was since not ashamed to own in a ' Daily Journal ' of Nov. 26, 1728 " was the inference Pope drew from that letter.^ 1 Note to line 106 of Book 1. The note is not in modem editions. This part of it first appeared in the Gilliver octavo of 1729. 330 ARRANGEMENTS FOR THEOBALD'S EDITION Tliis interpretation of his opponent's words would never have occurred to any one else than the poet. But the cool assumption that a man who may have been working for years upon the text of an author is under obliga- tions to contribute the results of his labors to another, with little recognition and no compensation, struck even him upon reflection as one which would not commend itself to the popular intelligence ; and even if it possibly did so to any person, the revenge taken would seem al- together out of proportion to the offence. Accordingly, in the so-called second edition of that year, which ap- peared in November, the note was revised. A statement was added to it that satisfaction had been promised to any one who could contribute to the greater perfection of the work. Further, in all the editions after the quarto an insinuation was conveyed — there was no direct asser- tion to that effect — that Theobald had been concerned in the outcry raised in the press that Pope had joined with the publisher to promote an extravagant subscrip- tion. These, it was intimated, were the reasons which had lifted him into his accidental pre-eminence as hero of the poem. The occasion of all this manipulation of the notes was the contempt which Theobald had naturally expressed for the claim that he was bound to render the assistance for which Pope had advertised. On this point he had expressed himself with a distinctness not to be mistaken. In so doing he had incidentally disclosed the nature and extent of the studies which had fitted him for the task he had undertaken. " It is a very grievous complaint on his side," he wrote, " that I would not communicate 331 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE all my observations upon Shakespeare, tho' he requested it by public advertisements. I must own, I considered the labor of twelve years' study upon this author of too much value rashly to give either the profit of it to a bookseller whom I had no obligations to ; or to the credit of an ed- itor so likely to be thankless. I '11 venture to tell Mr. Pope that I have made about two thousand emendations on Beaumont and Fletcher ; and if he should take it in his head to promise us a correct edition of those poets, and require all assistances by his royal proclamation, I verily believe I shall be such a rebel as to take no notice of his mandate." ^ This was the shameless avowal of his concealed design of which Pope spoke. There were other passages in the communication of April 17 which were not calculated to allay any irrita- tion which the poet felt. In none of his replies had Theobald been content to stand merely on the defen- sive. He regularly proceeded to furnish further illus- trations of his satirist's incapacity as an editor. Pope had constantly criticised his antagonist for what he called word-splitting, for dwelling at length upon min- utiffi that were of the ' least possible consequence. It was easy for Theobald to retort that his opponent had set out to discharge the duty of an editor with hardly even aiming to understand his author himself, or with having any ambition that his reader should; or when he did aim to understand he had shown such a happy facility in misapprehending the mean- ing that he had explained it into nonsense. In exemplification of this charge he pointed out the ' Daily Journal, Nov. 26, 1728. 332 ARRANGEMENrS FOR THEOBALD'S EDITION erroneous, not to say ridiculous, definitions which had been given of reeeliy, germins, and element} But in this letter there were four emendations which are now accepted in all or nearly all editions of Shakespeare. For two of them Theobald subsequently gave the credit to others. They are worth noting here, not merely for themselves, but because they explain the impression he made upon his immediate contemporaries, and the fact that he was so long enabled to hold his own against the virulent enmity of the most influential man of letters of his time. Tlie passages, as given here, are taken from Pope's edition ; but in every case but one they present the reading which had been handed down from the earliest impressions. The unintelligibility of the origi- nal finds its counterpart in the felicity of the emenda- tion. We get in consequence from them, as we can in no other way, a conception of the sagacity and ingenuity which have brought the text of Shakespeare out of its confusion into the comparative clearness in which we fmd it to-day. The first extract is from ' Measure for Measure.' In this the Duke is represented as addressing the procurer in these indignant words : " Say to thyself By their abominable and beastly touches I drink, I eat away myself, and live." ^ The utter incomprehensibility of "I eat away myself" of the last line vanishes at once in the emendation con- tained in this letter, — " I drink, I eat, array myself, and live." 1 See page 91. " Act iii., scene 2. 333 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE In his edition Theobald ascribed this most felicitous of corrections to his friend, Hawley Bishop ; but the next one, even more puzzling, is entirely his own. It occurs in the quibbling dialogue that goes on between Sir Andrew Aguecheek and Sir Toby Belch, and runs as follows in Pope's edition: " Sir Andrew. O had I but followed the arts! Sir Toby. Then hadst thou had an excellent head of hair. Sir Andrew. Why, would that have mended my hair? Sir Toby. Past question, for thou seest it will not cool my nature." ^ It is not always an easy matter to get at the meaning of Shakespeare's quibbles, even when they are given as he actually wrote them. This last reply of Sir Toby's, however, might have remained incomprehensible to the present day — we are all wise after the event — had not Theobald changed " cool my nature " into " curl by nature." The next two emendations belong to ' Love's Labor 's Lost.' The first occurs in Biron's humorous denuncia- tion of the god of love, whom he describes as " This signior Junio, giant dwarf, Dan Cupid." ^ " Signior Junio " Avas Pope's substitution for the " sig- nior Junios " of the original authorities. Theobald, following a hint of a friend, as he told us later, changed it here into "senior-junior," corresponding to the follow- ing " giant-dwarf." It is the reading generally followed in modern editions ; but singularly enough he himself discarded it when he came to publish his own, under the 1 Act i., scene 3. 2 ^gt j;; ^ scene 1. 334 ARRANGEMENTS FOR THEOBALD'S EDITION notion that there was a possible allusion to a char- acter Junius in Beaumont and Fletcher's ' Bonduca.' But to this same plaj' he contributed an emendation which brought clearness to a passage previously wrapt in obscurity. Furthermore, it was a correction in exact consonance with the character of the speaker. It is found in the conversation which goes on between the curate Nathanael and Holofernes, the representative of the pedant, both in the modern sense of that word and in the Elizabethan sense of 'schoolmaster.' The latter finds fault with certain love verses which have been read. They lack the graces of Ovid, he says. " Ovidius Naso was the man," he adds. " And whjs indeed, Naso, but for smelling out the odoriferous flowers of fancy ? The jerks of invention imitary is nothing. So doth the hound his master, the ape his keeper, the tired horse his rider." ^ This was the way the passage read in all the original authorities. So it appeared in the editions pre- vious to Theobald's. In them it was passed over in silence, either because it was unnoticed or could not be comprehended. " Invention imitary " was certainly a puzzle. Yet all difficulties disappeared the moment the passage was printed as it appeared corrected in this communication : " Why, indeed, Naso, but for smelling out the odoriferous flowers of fancy, the jerks of invention? Imitari is nothing; so doth the hound his master, etc. But though Theobald replied to the attacks made upon his conduct as a man, he never made any attempt to correct the absolutely false statements made about 1 Act iv., scene 2. 335 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE him as a writer. It would be a tedious and unprofitable task to hunt down all the misrepresentations with which the notes to ' The Dunciad ' swarm. Yet one must be followed up, partly because of its bearing upon the sub- ject, and partly because it illustrates both the intellec- tual greatness and the moral obliquity of his adversary. In a passage of peculiar brilliancy, only part of which appears in modern editions of the poem, and that too dissevered from its proper context. Pope attacked Theo- bald as a commentator. He represented him in his apostrophe to the goddess of dulness as thus speaking of himself: " Here studious I unlucky moderns save, Nor sleeps one error in its father's grave, Old puns restore, lost blunders nicely seek, And crucify poor Shakespear once a week. For thee I dim these eyes, and stuff this hea,d. With all such reading as was never read ; For thee supplying, in the worst of days, Notes to dull books, and prologues to dull plays; For thee explain a thing till all men doubt it. And write about- it, Goddess, and about it." ^ It has been found very easy in these latter days to un- derrate Pope's genius. Those who do so may felicitate themselves that they are free from any possibility of being exposed to its attack. The justice of the lines here given is not in question ; it is the wit which excites admiration, and in one sense the wisdom. Can a more 1 Dunciad of 1729, Book 1, Hues 161-170. Lines 5, 6, 9, 10, are in Book 4 of modern editions, lines 249-252, the rest have disappeared. Tlie eighth line refers to Theobald's notes to Cooke's Hesiod, and his prologue to James Moore-Smj'the's comedy of ' The Rival Modes.' 336 . ARRANGEMENTS FOR THEOBALD'S EDITION vivid picture be drawn than is found in them of that plodding but unintelligent industry which piles up heaps of explanatory matter upon points which present no difficulty, and cumbers a classic with a fungous growth of annotation in which the work of the author is almost entirely lost in the inanities and trivialities of the com- mentator ? The justness of it, to be sure, as a criticism of Theobald's labors can be estimated from the fact that the part of it which is retained in modern editions now applies to Bentley. Pope was not content with letting these lines stand for themselves. In the enlarged editions of ' The Dun- ciad ' he added a comment to the one which represents poor Shakespeare as being weekly crucified by Theobald. "For some time," he wrote, " once a week or fortnight, he printed in ' Mist's Journal ' a single remark or poor con- jecture on some word or pointing of Shakespear." Both the line and the note have disappeared from regular edi- tions of ' The Dunciad.' Only occasionally are they now found in the commentary upon the poem. But the statement here made has been constantly repeated. From that day to this there has hardly been a reference to Theobald's course, there has hardly been even a cur- sory account of the controversy in which he became engaged, in which he has not been represented as steadily annoying Pope by these repeated reminders of his lack of diligence or lack of capacity. Again and again have we been told of Theobald's weekly or fortnightly contribu- tions to ' Mist's Journal.' It was malignity, it is implied, that thus led him to disturb the poet's peace. Hence it was natural, if not justifiable, for Pope to show anger. 22 337 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE Such are the statements. What are the facts ? The articles that Theobald himself sent to ' Mist's Journal ' from the date of the publication of his criticism of Pope's edition of Shakespeare to the pubhcation of these lines representing him as crucifying poor Shake- speare once a week, were just one. This one, furtlier, contained but a single emendation, and even that came in incidentally. Add to this one other communication — that of March 16, 1728 — which was sent to that newspaper not by Theobald, but by a friend of his, in all probability, however, with his consent. In this were found several noted corrections. Consequently, all his contributions to • Mist's Journal ' containing remarks on the text of Shakespeare, whether furnished directly or indirectly, amounted to precisely two. The columns of that paper will be searched in vain for any further justi- fication of the assertion made in Pope's note. In fact, up to the date of the suppression of that journal in Sep- tember, 1728, all the communications of Theobald of any sort which appeared in it, during those years, reach the exact number of three. Pope himself came to feel that his note needed some qualification. So in the second edition of ' The Dun- ciad ' of 1729, he added a few further words in regard to Theobald's contributing some single remark or poor conjecture on Shakespeare. These, he said, were made " either in his own name, or in letters to himself as from others without name." ^ Pope perhaps meant to say " letters from himself to others without name." At 1 Note to line 162 of Book 1, 2d ed. of 1729, p. 75. The note is not in modern editions. 338 ARBANGEMENTS FOR THEOBALD'S EDITION least this is the only way the remark can be reconciled with the facts. But alteration of such a sort would not have made the statement itself true ; it would only have made it less extravagantly mendacious. Even were we to include Theobald's contributions during these years to all the journals on the subject of Shakespeare, we could add but three articles more. Of these latter but one appeared before the publication of ' The Dun- ciad ' ; the two ^^'hich followed that poem were called out by Pope's attacks upon himself. The account just given conveys a good idea both of Pope's truthfulness and of the innocent and unsuspect- ing faith in it which has been exhibited by his editors and biographers. Modern impressions about Theobald have been derived almost wholly from the assertions of the poet. Of several things written or done by him suc- ceeding generations have derived their knowledge from the notes to ' The Dunciad ' ; and it is knowledge per- verted by misrepresentation and misquotation so as to make him seem to think and feel altogether differently from what he actually thought and felt. The examples already given — and they could be multiplied largely — prove conclusively that no one would or could ever get a proper conception of what Theobald said or did on any occasion from the account of it given by Pope after the original communication, containing the exact words, had passed from sight and memory in the oblivion which usually overtakes everything whicli is confined to the columns of a newspaper. These calumnies have re- mained uncontradicted in every edition of Pope from the earliest to the latest, including even one so gener- 339 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE ally hostile to the poet as that of William Lisle Bowles. The lies have now got so great a start that it is simply hopeless to expect that the truth will ever overtake them, so far at least as the belief of the general public is concerned. During the whole of 1729 and 1730 Theobald, as we know from his correspondence, was busily occupied in the study of Shakespeare's text. Meanwhile the desire widely entertained that he should himself edit the works of the dramatist began to show signs of possible realiza- tion. The dif&culties in the way were gradually sur- mounted. The exclusive possession by any one of the right to print the text was first doubted, then denied. When it came to be carefully considered, it had to be abandoned. Still this result was reached slowly. It was not till the latter part of 1729 that Theobald seri- ously contemplated bringing out an edition of the plays. It is evident from his words that it was then onlj'- a possibility, not a certainty. " I know yOu will not be displeased," he wrote to Warburton, "if I should tell you in your ear, perhaps I may venture to join the text to my ' Remarks.' But of that more a little time hence." ^ By the following March what seems a definite decision to that effect had been reached. In a letter belonging to this month he informed the same correspondent that it was necessary now to inform the public that he in- tended to give an edition of the poet's text along with his corrections."'^ Yet even then it is clear that all obstacles had not 1 Letter of Nov. 6, 1729, Nichols, vol. ii. p. 254. 2 Ibid. p. 551, letter of March 10, 1730. 340 ARRANGEMENTS FOR THEOBALD'S EDITION been removed. Possibly the negotiations between the various publishers to carry out the object in view had hung fire. There may have been doubts as to the legal- ity of the proceeding. At all events it was not until November, 1731, that Theobald entered into a contract with Tonson for the publication of the work. With his house five others were joined. It is evident from the arrangement then made that he had done a great deal towaids the performance of the task ; equally evident that he did not fully appreciate how much more remained to be done. The completed work, it was then agreed, was to appear the following March ; it did not come out till nearly two years after the time fixed upon. These successive changes of plan necessitated a delay which turned out in each instance much longer than had been anticipated. It fuither exposed Theobald to the charge of extorting money from subscribers without designing to give them anything in return. But he was too thor- oughly a scholar to hurry anything crude into the world, and preferred the reproach of being behindhand in doing what he set out to do to the regret he would feel for having done it unsatisfactorily. That he was sensitive to the charge, however, there is no question. In writing to the antiquary, Martin Folkes, informing him that hav- ing now signed articles with Tonson, he was preparing to put out as correct an edition of Shakespeare as lay in his power, he expressed the conviction that he would soon convince the public as well as his friends that the insinuations levelled against him were very unjust.^ In November, 1731, Pope read in his personal organ, 1 Nichols, vol, ii. p. 619, letter of Nov. 17, 1731. 341 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE the ' Grub-street Journal,' an item copied into it from the ' Daily Journal.' "We hear," were its words, " that Mr. Theobald, being now entirely ready to give the public an edition of Shakespeare's plays, with his remarks and emendations, has articled with Mi\ Tonson for publishing the same in six volumes in octavo with all possible de- spatch." 1 Pope could not well have been ignorant that a scheme of some such sort was in contemplation. It had in fact been more than once referred to in the ' Grub- street Journal.' But he had pretty clearly been disposed to look upon it as a remote possibihty, very much as was the publication of the translation of -80n, Rev. William, 480. TiCKELL, Thomas, 276, 300. Tieck, Ludwig, 114. TiNDAL, Matthew, 270, 400. ToLAND, John, 270. Tottel's Miscellany, 504. TooKNEUK, Cyril, 27. Turner, William, 178. Two Noble Kinsmen, The, a play, 61. Universal Spectator, The, 348 n. Upton, John, 441. Urky, John, his Chaucer, 504. Valteger, a play, 14. Voltaire, Frangois Marie Arouet de, 248-250, 402. Walpole, Sir Robert, 153, 242, 269, 303, 313, 369. Warisurton, John, ' Somerset Herald,' 27, 149. 578 INDEX Warburton, William, 93, 98, 111, 118, 166, 168, 171, 268, 363, 380, 504, 505, 545, 546; his corre- spondence with Theobald, 1'23, 242, 255, 269, 296, 325, 327, 340, 489, 496, 600, 534, 536, 554, 555 ; Ms attacks on Theobald, 178, 311, 508, 532, 544, 548; Theobald's admiration for, 492, 510 ; harm wrought by him to Theobald's edition, 521-523 ; his articles attacking Pope, 351-362; his emendations of Shakespeare, 359-361 ; his edition of Shake- speare, 245, 638, 558 ; his appro- priations from Theobald, 542- 544. Ward, Edward, 207, 243, 256, 263, 282, 323. Wakton, Joseph, 192, 216, 268, 385, 411, 562. Watts, Isaac, 292. Wkbster, John, 17, 21, 23, 32, 142. Weekly Oracle or Unitersal Library, The, 485. Welsted, Leonard, 207, 243, 255, 263, 276, 278, 296, 323, 324, 367, 379, 388, 409, 412, 483. Wesley, Samuel, 292. Wharton, Philip Wharton, Duke of, 181. Whitehead, Paul, 271, 369. WiLKs, Robert, 126. WooLSTON, Tlioraas, 270, 380, 458. Wyciierley, WilUam, 378, 413, 475. Wynkin de Woede, 213, 347. Yorkshire Tragedy, A, 70, 116, 378. Yodng, Edward, 276, 366, 441. 679