Alon. This is as strange a thing, as e'er I look'd on.3 [Pointing to CAL. Pro. He is as disproportion'd in his manners. As in his shape-Go, sirrah, to my cell; Take with you your companions; as you look To have my pardon, trim it handsomely.

Cal. Ay, that I will; and I'll be wise hereafter, And seek for grace: What a thrice-double ass Was I, to take this drunkard for a god,

And worship this dull fool?

Pro.

Go to; away!

Alon. Hence, and bestow your luggage where you found it.

Seb. Or stole it, rather. [Exeunt CAL. STE. and TRIN. Pro. Sir, I invite your highness, and your train, To my poor cell: where you shall take your rest For this one night; which (part of it,) I'll waste With such discourse, as, I not doubt, shall make it Go quick away: the story of my life,

And the particular accidents, gone by,

Since I came to this isle: And, in the morn,
I'll bring you to your ship, and so to Naples,
Where I have hope to see the nuptial
Of these our dear-beloved, solemniz'd;
And thence retire me to my Milan, where
Every third thought shall be my grave.

Alon.
I long
To hear the story of your life, which must
Take the ear strangely.

Pro.

I'll deliver all;

And promise you calm seas, auspicious gales,

And sail so expeditious, that shall catch

Your royal fleet far off.-My Ariel;-chick,-
That is thy charge; then to the elements

Be free, and fare thou well!-[aside.] Please you draw near

[Exeunt.

3 This is as strange a thing, as e'er I look'd on.] The old copy, disregarding metre, reads

"This is a strange thing as e'er I look'd on." For the repetition of the conjunction as, &c. I am answerable.

Steevens.

NOW my charms are all o'erthrown,
And what strength I have's mine own;
Which is most faint: now, 'tis true,
I must be here confin'd by you,
Or sent to Naples: Let me not,
Since I have my dukedom got,
And pardon'd the deceiver, dwell
In this bare island, by your spell;
But release me from my bands,
With the help of your good hands.
Gentle breath of yours my sails
Must fill, or else my project fails,
Which was to please: Now I want

Spirits to enforce, art to enchant;

With the help of your good hands.] By your applause, by clapping hands. Johnson.

Noise was supposed to dissolve a spell. So, twice before, in this play:

Again:

"No tongue; all eyes; be silent."

66

hush! be mute;

"Or else our spell is marr'd."

Again, in Macbeth, Act IV. sc. i:

"Hear his speech, but say thou nought."

Again, ibid:

"Listen, but speak not to 't." Steevens.

N

And my ending is despair,
Unless I be reliev'd by pray'r;5
Which pierces so, that it assaults
Mercy itself, and frees all faults.

As you from crimes would pardon'd be,

Let your indulgence set me free.

1

5 And my ending is despair,

Unless I be reliev'd by pray'r;] This alludes to the old stories told of the despair of necromancers, in their last moments, and of the efficacy of the prayers of their friends for them.

Warburton.

6 It is observed of The Tempest, that its plan is regular; this the author of The Revisal thinks, what I think too, an accidental effect of the story, not intended, or regarded, by our author. But, whatever might be Shakspeare's intention, in forming, or adopting, the plot, he has made it instrumental to the production of many characters, diversified with boundless invention, and preserved with profound skill in nature, extensive knowledge of opinions, and accurate observation of life. In a single drama, are here exhibited princes, courtiers, and sailors, all speaking in their real characters. There is the agency of airy spirits, and of an earthly goblin. The operations of magick, the tumults of a storm, the adventures of a desert island, the native effusion of untaught affection, the punishment of guilt, and the final happiness of the pair for whom our passions and reason are equally interested. Johnson.

1

TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA.

SOME of the incidents, in this play, may be supposed to have been taken from The Arcadia, Book I. chap. vi, where Pyrocles consents to head the Helots. (The Arcadia was entered on the books of the Stationers' Company, Aug. 23d, 1588.) The loveadventure of Julia resembles that of Viola, in Twelfth Night, and is, indeed, common to many of the ancient novels. Steevens.

Mrs. Lenox observes, and I think not improbably, that the story of Proteus and Julia might be taken from a similar one, in the Diana of George of Montemayor." This pastoral romance," says she, "was translated from the Spanish, in Shakspeare's time." I have seen no earlier translation, than that of Bartholomew Yong, who dates his dedication in November, 1598; and Meres, in his Wit's Treasury, printed the same year, expressly mentions the Two Gentlemen of Verona. Indeed, Montemayor was translated two or three years before, by one Thomas Wilson; but this work, I am persuaded, was never published entirely; perhaps some parts of it were, or the tale might have been translated by others. However, Mr. Steevens says, very truly, that this kind of love-adventure is frequent in the old novelists. Farmer.

There is no earlier translation of the Diana, entered on the books of the Stationers' Company, than that of B. Younge, Sept. 1598. Many translations, however, after they were licensed, were capriciously suppressed. Among others, "The Decameron of Mr. John Boccace, Florentine," was "recalled by my lord of Canterbury's commands." Steevens.

It is observable (I know not for what cause) that the style of this comedy is less figurative, and more natural and unaffected, than the greater part of this author's, though supposed to be one of the first he wrote. Pope.

It may very well be doubted, whether Shakspeare had any other hand in this play, than the enlivening it with some speeches and lines, thrown in here and there, which are easily distinguished, as being of a different stamp from the rest. Hanmer.

To this observation of Mr. Pope, which is very just, Mr. Theobald has added, that this is one of Shakspeare's worst plays, and is less corrupted, than any other. Mr. Upton peremptorily determines, that if any proof can be drawn from manner and style, this play must be sent packing, and seek for its parent elsewhere. How otherwise, says he, do painters distinguish copies from originals? And have not authors their peculiar style and manner, from which a true critic can form as unerring judgement as a painter? I am afraid this illustration of a critic's science will not prove what is desired. A painter knows a copy from an original, by rules, somewhat resembling those, by which critics know a translation, which, if it be literal, and literal it must be to resemble the copy of a pic. ture, will be easily distinguished. Copies are known from originals, even when the painter copies his own picture; so, if an author should literally translate his work, he would lose the manner of an original.