Jul. Behold her that gave aim to all thy oaths,
And entertained them deeply in her heart:
How oft hast thou with perjury cleft the root!
O Proteus, let this habit make thee blush!
Be thou ashamed, that I have took upon me
Such an immodest raiment; if shame live
In a disguise of love:

It is the lesser blot modesty finds,

Women to change their shapes, than men their minds.

Pro. Than men their minds? 'tis true: O heaven!

were man

But constant, he were perfect: that one error

Fills him with faults; makes him run through all

the sins;

Inconstancy falls off, ere it begins:

What is in Silvia's face, but I may spy

More fresh in Julia's, with a constant eye?

Val. Come, come, a hand from either : Let me be blest to make this happy close? Twere pity two such friends should be long foes. Pro. Bear witness, heaven, I have my wish forever. Jul. And I mine.

Enter Outlaws, with DUKE and THURIO.

Out. A prize, a prize, a prize!

Val. Forbear, forbear, I say; it is my lord the duke.

Your grace is welcome to a man disgraced,

Banished Valentine.

Thu. Yonder is Silvia; and Silvia's mine.

Val. Thurio, give back, or else embrace thy death;

Come not within the measure of my wrath:
Do not name Silvia thine: if once again,
Verona shall not hold thee. Here she stands;
Take but possession of her with a touch;-
I dare thee but to breathe upon my love.

Thu. Sir Valentine, I care not for her, I;

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

Duke. The more degenerate and base art thou,
To make such means for her as thou hast done,
And leave her on such slight conditions.
Now, by the honor of my ancestry,
I do applaud thy spirit, Valentine,
And think thee worthy of an empress' love.
Know then, I here forget all former griefs,
Cancel all grudge, repeal thee home again.-
Plead a new state in thy unrivalled merit,
To which I thus subscribe, -Sir Valentine,
Thou art a gentleman, and well derived ;
Take thou thy Silvia, for thou hast deserved her.

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

happy.

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

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

Are men endued with worthy qualities;
Forgive them what they have committed here,
And let them be recalled from their exíle :
They are reformed, civil, full of good,
And fit for great employment, worthy lord.

Duke. Thou hast prevailed; I pardon them, and

thee:

Dispose of them, as thou know'st their deserts.
Come, let us go; we will include 1 all jars
With triumphs, mirth, and rare solemnity.

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

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

blushes.

Val. I warrant you, my lord; more grace than boy. Duke. What mean you by that saying? Val. Please you, I'll tell you as we pass along, That you will wonder what hath fortuned.--Come, Proteus; 'tis your penance, but to hear The story of your loves discovered : That done, our day of marriage shall be yours; One feast, one house, one mutual happiness. [Exeunt

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

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

JOHNSON.

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

I was mad once, when I loved pictures;
For what are shape and colors else, but pictures?

M. MASON.

MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR.

PRELIMINARY REMARKS.

A FEW of the incidents of this comedy might have been taken from an old translation of Il Pecorone di Giovanni Fiorentino. The same story is to be met with in "The Fortunate, the Deceived, and the Unfortunate Lovers, 1632." A somewhat similar one occurs in the Piacevoli Notti di Straparola. Notte iv. Favola iv.

The adventures of Falstaff seem to have been taken from the story of the lovers of Pisa in "Tarleton's Newes out of Purgatorie," bl. l. no date, but entered on the Stationers' books in 1590. The fishwife's tale, in "Westward for Smelts," a book from which Shakspeare borrowed part of the fable of Cymbeline, probably led him to lay the scene at Windsor. Mr. Malone thinks that the following line in the earliest edition of this comedy, Sail like my pinnace to those golden shores,' shows that it was written after Sir Walter Raleigh's return from Guiana in 1596.

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

It may not be thought so clear that it was written after King Henry V.

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