Chapter 2

It is said, our Author spent some Years before his Death, in Ease, Retirement, and the Conversation of his Friends, at his Native _Stratford_. I could never pick up any certain Intelligence, when He relinquish’d the Stage. I know, it has been mistakenly thought by some, that _Spenser_’s _Thalia_, in his _Tears of his Muses_, where she laments the Loss of her _Willy_ in the Comic Scene, has been apply’d to our Author’s quitting the Stage. But _Spenser_ himself, ’tis well known, quitted the Stage of Life in the Year 1598; and, five Years after this, we find _Shakespeare_’s Name among the Actors in _Ben Jonson_’s _Sejanus_, which first made its Appearance in the Year 1603. Nor, surely, could he then have any Thoughts of retiring, since, that very Year, a Licence under the Privy-Seal was granted by K. _James_ I. to him and _Fletcher_, _Burbage_, _Phillippes_, _Hemmings_, _Condel_, &c. authorizing them to exercise the Art of playing Comedies, Tragedies, &c. as well at their usual House call’d the _Globe_ on the other Side of the Water, as in any other Parts of the Kingdom, during his Majesty’s Pleasure: (A Copy of which Licence is preserv’d in _Rymer_’s _Foedera_.) Again, ’tis certain, that _Shakespeare_ did not exhibit his _Macbeth_, till after the _Union_ was brought about, and till after K. _James_ I. had begun to touch for the _Evil_: for ’tis plain, he has inserted Compliments, on both those Accounts, upon his Royal Master in that Tragedy.

Nor, indeed, could the Number of the Dramatic Pieces, he produced, admit of his retiring near so early as that Period. So that what _Spenser_ there says, if it relate at all to _Shakespeare_, must hint at some occasional Recess he made for a time upon a Disgust taken: or the _Willy_, there mention’d, must relate to some other favourite Poet. I believe, we may safely determine that he had not quitted in the Year 1610. For in his _Tempest_, our Author makes mention of the _Bermuda_ Islands, which were unknown to the _English_, till, in 1609, Sir _John Summers_ made a Voyage to _North-America_, and discover’d them: and afterwards invited some of his Countrymen to settle a Plantation there. That he became the private Gentleman at least three Years before his Decease, is pretty obvious from another Circumstance: I mean, from that remarkable and well-known Story, which Mr. _Rowe_ has given us of our Author’s Intimacy with Mr. _John Combe_, an old Gentleman noted thereabouts for his Wealth and Usury: and upon whom _Shakespeare_ made the following facetious Epitaph.

Ten in the hundred lies here in-grav’d, ’Tis a hundred to ten his Soul is not sav’d; If any Man ask who lies in this Tomb, Oh! oh! quoth the Devil, ’tis my _John-a-Combe_.

This sarcastical Piece of Wit was, at the Gentleman’s own Request, thrown out extemporally in his Company. And this Mr. _John Combe_ I take to be the same, who, by _Dugdale_ in his Antiquities of _Warwickshire_, is said to have dy’d in the Year 1614, and for whom at the upper End of the Quire, of the Guild of the Holy Cross at _Stratford_, a fair Monument is erected, having a Statue thereon cut in Alabaster, and in a Gown with this Epitaph. “Here lyeth enterr’d the Body of _John Combe_ Esq; who dy’d the 10th of _July_, 1614, who bequeathed several Annual Charities to the Parish of _Stratford_, and 100_l._ to be lent to fifteen poor Tradesmen from three years to three years, changing the Parties every third Year, at the Rate of fifty Shillings _per Annum_, the Increase to be distributed to the Almes-poor there.”--The Donation has all the Air of a rich and sagacious Usurer.

_Shakespeare_ himself did not survive Mr. _Combe_ long, for he dy’d in the Year 1616, the 53d of his Age. He lies buried on the North Side of the Chancel in the great Church at _Stratford_; where a Monument, decent enough for the Time, is erected to him, and plac’d against the Wall. He is represented under an Arch in a sitting Posture, a Cushion spread before him, with a Pen in his Right Hand, and his Left rested on a Scrowl of Paper. The _Latin_ Distich, which is placed under the Cushion, has been given us by Mr. _Pope_, or his Graver, in this Manner.

INGENIO _Pylium_, Genio _Socratem_, Arte _Maronem_, Terra tegit, Populus mæret, Olympus habet.

I confess, I don’t conceive the Difference betwixt _Ingeniô_ and _Geniô_ in the first Verse. They seem to me intirely synonomous Terms; nor was the _Pylian_ Sage _Nestor_ celebrated for his Ingenuity, but for an Experience and Judgment owing to his long Age. _Dugdale_, in his Antiquities of _Warwickshire_, has copied this Distich with a Distinction which Mr. _Rowe_ has follow’d, and which certainly restores us the true meaning of the Epitaph.

_JUDICIO Pylium_, Genio _Socratem_, &c.

In 1614, the greater part of the Town of _Stratford_ was consumed by Fire; but our _Shakespeare_’s House, among some others, escap’d the Flames. This House was first built by Sir _Hugh Clopton_, a younger Brother of an ancient Family in that Neighbourhood, who took their Name from the Manor of _Clopton_. Sir _Hugh_ was Sheriff of _London_ in the Reign of _Richard_ III, and Lord Mayor in the Reign of King _Henry_ VII. To this Gentleman the Town of _Stratford_ is indebted for the fine Stone-bridge, consisting of fourteen Arches, which at an extraordinary Expence he built over the _Avon_, together with a Cause-way running at the West-end thereof; as also for rebuilding the Chapel adjoining to his House, and the Cross-Isle in the Church there. It is remarkable of him, that, tho’ he liv’d and dy’d a Batchelor, among the other extensive Charities which he left both to the City of _London_ and Town of _Stratford_, he bequeath’d considerable Legacies for the Marriage of poor Maidens of good Name and Fame both in _London_ and at _Stratford_. Notwithstanding which large Donations in his Life, and Bequests at his Death, as he had purchased the Manor of _Clopton_, and all the Estate of the Family, so he left the same again to his Elder Brother’s Son with a very great Addition: (a Proof, how well Beneficence and Oeconomy may walk hand in hand in wise Families:) Good part of which Estate is yet in the Possession of _Edward Clopton_, Esq; and Sir _Hugh Clopton_, Knt. lineally descended from the Elder Brother of the first Sir _Hugh_: Who particularly bequeathed to his Nephew, by his Will, his House, by the Name of his _Great-house_ in _Stratford_.

The Estate had now been sold out of the _Clopton_ Family for above a Century, at the Time when _Shakespeare_ became the Purchaser: who, having repair’d and modell’d it to his own Mind, chang’d the Name to _New-place_; which the Mansion-house, since erected upon the same Spot, at this day retains. The House and Lands, which attended it, continued in _Shakespeare_’s Descendants to the Time of the _Restoration_: when they were repurchased by the _Clopton_ Family, and the Mansion now belongs to Sir _Hugh Clopton_, Knt. To the Favour of this worthy Gentleman I owe the Knowledge of one Particular, in Honour of our Poet’s once Dwelling-house, of which, I presume, Mr. ROWE never was appriz’d. When the Civil War raged in _England_, and K. _Charles_ the _First’s_ Queen was driven by the Necessity of Affairs to make a Recess in _Warwickshire_, She kept her Court for three Weeks in _New-place_. We may reasonably suppose it then the best private House in the Town; and her Majesty preferr’d it to the _College_, which was in the Possession of the _Combe_-Family, who did not so strongly favour the King’s Party.

How much our Author employ’d himself in Poetry, after his Retirement from the Stage, does not so evidently appear: Very few posthumous Sketches of his Pen have been recover’d to ascertain that Point. We have been told, indeed, in Print, but not till very lately, That two large Chests full of this Great Man’s loose Papers and Manuscripts, in the Hands of an ignorant Baker of _Warwick_, (who married one of the Descendants from our _Shakespeare_) were carelesly scatter’d and thrown about, as Garret-Lumber, and Litter, to the particular Knowledge of the late Sir _William Bishop_, till they were all consumed in the general Fire and Destruction, of that Town. I cannot help being a little apt to distrust the Authority of this Tradition; because as his Wife surviv’d him seven Years, and as his Favourite Daughter _Susanna_ surviv’d her twenty six Years, ’tis very improbable, they should suffer such a Treasure to be remov’d, and translated into a remoter Branch of the Family, without a Scrutiny first made into the Value of it. This, I say, inclines me to distrust the Authority of the Relation: but, notwithstanding such an apparent Improbability, if we really lost such a Treasure, by whatever Fatality or Caprice of Fortune they came into such ignorant and neglectful Hands, I agree with the _Relater_, the Misfortune is wholly irreparable.

[Sidenote*: His Character as a _Writer_.]

To these Particulars, which regard his Person and private Life, some few more are to be glean’d from Mr. ROWE’s Account of his _Life_ and _Writings_: *Let us now take a short View of him in his publick Capacity, as a _Writer_: and, from thence, the Transition will be easy to the _State_ in which his _Writings_ have been handed down to us.

No Age, perhaps, can produce an Author more various from himself, than _Shakespeare_ has been universally acknowledg’d to be. The Diversity in Stile, and other Parts of Composition, so obvious in him, is as variously to be accounted for. His Education, we find, was at best but begun: and he started early into a Science from the Force of Genius, unequally assisted by acquir’d Improvements. His Fire, Spirit, and Exuberance of Imagination gave an Impetuosity to his Pen: His Ideas flow’d from him in a Stream rapid, but not turbulent; copious, but not ever overbearing its Shores. The Ease and Sweetness of his Temper might not a little contribute to his Facility in Writing; as his Employment, as a _Player_, gave him an Advantage and Habit of fancying himself the very Character he meant to delineate. He used the Helps of his Function in forming himself to create and express that _Sublime_, which other Actors can only copy, and throw out, in Action and graceful Attitude. But _Nullum fine Veniâ placuit Ingenium_, says _Seneca_. The Genius, that gives us the greatest Pleasure, sometimes stands in Need of our Indulgence. Whenever this happens with regard to _Shakespeare_, I would willingly impute it to a Vice of _his Times_. We see Complaisance enough, in our own Days, paid to a _bad Taste_. His _Clinches_, _false Wit_, and descending beneath himself, seem to be a Deference paid to _reigning Barbarism_. He was a _Sampson_ in Strength, but he suffer’d some such _Dalilah_ to give him up to the _Philistines_.

As I have mention’d the Sweetness of his Disposition, I am tempted to make a Reflexion or two on a Sentiment of his, which, I am persuaded, came from the Heart.

The Man, that hath no Musick in himself, Nor is not mov’d with Concord of sweet Sounds, Is fit for Treasons, Stratagems, and Spoils: The Motions of his Spirit are dull as Night, And his Affections dark as _Erebus_: Let no such Man be trusted.----

[Sidenote: A Lover of _Musick_.]

_Shakespeare_ was all Openness, Candour, and Complacence; and had such a Share of Harmony in his Frame and Temperature, that we have no Reason to doubt, from a Number of fine Passages, Allusions, Similies, &_c._ fetch’d from _Musick_, but that He was a passionate Lover of it. And to this, perhaps, we may owe that great Number of _Sonnets_, which are sprinkled thro’ his _Plays_. I have found, that the Stanza’s sung by the Gravedigger in _Hamlet_, are not of _Shakespeare_’s own Composition, but owe their Original to the old Earl of _Surrey_’s Poems. Many other of his Occasional little Songs, I doubt not, but he purposely copied from his Contemporary Writers; sometimes, out of Banter; sometimes, to do them Honour. The Manner of their Introduction, and the Uses to which he has assigned them, will easily determine for which of the Reasons they are respectively employ’d. In _As you like it_, there are several little Copies of Verses on _Rosalind_, which are said to be the right _Butter-woman’s Rank to Market_, and the very _false Gallop of Verses_. Dr. _Thomas Lodge_, a Physician who flourish’d early in Queen _Elizabeth_’s Reign, and was a great Writer of the Pastoral Songs and Madrigals, which were so much the Strain of those Times, composed a whole Volume of Poems in Praise of his Mistress, whom he calls _Rosalinde_. I never yet could meet with this Collection; but whenever I do, I am persuaded, I shall find many of our Author’s Canzonets on this Subject to be Scraps of the Doctor’s amorous Muse: as, perhaps, those by _Biron_ too, and the other Lovers in _Love’s Labour’s lost_, may prove to be.

It has been remark’d in the Course of my Notes, that Musick in our Author’s time had a very different Use from what it has now. At this Time, it is only employ’d to raise and inflame the Passions; it, then, was apply’d to calm and allay all kinds of Perturbations. And, agreeable to this Observation, throughout all _Shakespeare_’s Plays, where Musick is either actually used, or its Powers describ’d, it is chiefly said to be for these Ends. His _Twelfth-Night_, particularly, begins with a fine Reflexion that admirably marks its soothing Properties.

That Strain again;--It had a dying Fall. Oh, it came o’er my Ear like the sweet South, That breathes upon a Bank of Violets, Stealing and giving Odour!

[Sidenote*: _Milton_ an Imitator of him.]

This _Similitude_ is remarkable not only for the Beauty of the Image that it presents, but likewise for the Exactness to the Thing compared. This is a way of Teaching peculiar to the Poets; that, when they would describe the Nature of any thing, they do it not by a direct Enumeration of its Attributes or Qualities, but by bringing something into Comparison, and describing those Qualities of it that are of the Kind with those in the Thing compared. So, here for instance, the Poet willing to instruct in the Properties of Musick, in which the same Strains have a Power to excite Pleasure, or Pain, according to that State of Mind the Hearer is then in, does it by presenting the Image of a sweet South Wind blowing o’er a Violet-bank; which wafts away the Odour of the Violets, and at the same time communicates to it its own Sweetness: by This insinuating, that affecting Musick, tho’ it takes away the natural sweet Tranquillity of the Mind, yet, at the same time, communicates a Pleasure the Mind felt not before. This Knowledge, of the same Objects being capable of raising two contrary Affections, is a Proof of no ordinary Progress in the Study of human Nature. *The general Beauties of those two Poems of _MILTON_, intitled, _L’Allegro_ and _Il Pensoroso_, are obvious to all Readers, because the Descriptions are the most poetical in the World; yet there is a peculiar Beauty in those two excellent Pieces, that will much enhance the Value of them to the more capable Readers; which has never, I think, been observ’d. The Images, in each Poem, which he raises to excite Mirth and Melancholy, are exactly the same, only shewn in different Attitudes. Had a Writer, less acquainted with Nature, given us two Poems on these Subjects, he would have been sure to have sought out the most contrary Images to raise these contrary Passions. And, particularly, as _Shakespeare_, in the Passage I am now commenting, speaks of these different Effects in Musick; so _Milton_ has brought it into each Poem as the Exciter of each Affection: and lest we should mistake him, as meaning that different Airs had this different Power, (which every Fidler is proud to have you understand,) He gives the Image of those self-same Strains that _Orpheus_ used to regain _Eurydice_, as proper both to excite Mirth and Melancholy. But _Milton_ most industriously copied the Conduct of our _Shakespeare_, in Passages that shew’d an intimate Acquaintance with Nature and Science.

[Sidenote: Shakespeare’s _Knowledge of Nature_.]

I have not thought it out of my Province, whenever Occasion offer’d, to take notice of some of our Poet’s grand Touches of Nature: Some, that do not appear superficially such; but in which he seems the most deeply instructed; and to which, no doubt, he has so much ow’d that happy Preservation of his _Characters_, for which he is justly celebrated. If he was not acquainted with the Rule as deliver’d by _Horace_, his own admirable Genius pierc’d into the Necessity of such a Rule.

----Servetur ad imum Qualis ab incœpto processerit, & sibi constet.

For what can be more ridiculous, than, in our modern Writers, to make a debauch’d young Man, immers’d in all the Vices of his Age and Time, in a few hours take up, confine himself in the way of Honour to one Woman, and moralize in good earnest on the Follies of his past Behaviour? Nor can, that great Examplar of _Comic_ Writing, _Terence_ be altogether excused in this Regard; who, in his _Adelphi_, has left _Demea_ in the last Scenes so unlike himself: whom, as _Shakespeare_ expresses it, _he has turn’d with the seamy Side of his Wit outward_. This Conduct, as Errors are more readily imitated than Perfections, _Beaumont_ and _Fletcher_ seem to have follow’d in a Character in their _Scornful Lady_. It may be objected, perhaps, by some who do not go to the Bottom of our Poet’s Conduct, that he has likewise transgress’d against the Rule himself, by making Prince _Harry_ at once, upon coming to the Crown, throw off his former Dissoluteness, and take up the Practice of a sober Morality and all the kingly Virtues. But this would be a mistaken Objection. The Prince’s Reformation is not so sudden, as not to be prepar’d and expected by the Audience. He gives, indeed, a Loose to Vanity, and a light unweigh’d Behaviour, when he is trifling among his dissolute Companions; but the Sparks of innate Honour and true Nobleness break from him upon every proper Occasion, where we would hope to see him awake to Sentiments suiting his Birth and Dignity. And our Poet has so well, and artfully, guarded his Character from the Suspicions of habitual and unreformable Profligateness; that even from the first shewing him upon the Stage, in the first Part of _Henry_ IV, when he made him consent to join with _Falstaffe_ in a Robbery on the Highway, he has taken care not to carry him off the Scene, without an Intimation that he knows them all, and their unyok’d Humour; and that, like the Sun, he will permit them only for a while to obscure and cloud his Brightness; then break thro’ the Mist, when he pleases to be himself again; that his Lustre, when wanted, may be the more wonder’d at.

Another of _Shakespeare_’s grand Touches of Nature, and which lies still deeper from the Ken of common Observation, has been taken notice of in a Note upon _The Tempest_; where _Prospero_ at once interrupts the Masque of _Spirits_, and starts into a sudden Passion and Disorder of Mind. As the latent Cause of his Emotion is there fully inquir’d into, I shall no farther dwell upon it here.

Such a Conduct in a Poet (as _Shakespeare_ has manifested on many like Occasions;) where the Turn of _Action_ arises from Reflexions of his _Characters_, where the Reason of it is not express’d in Words, but drawn from the inmost Resources of Nature, shews him truly capable of that Art, which is more in Rule than Practice: _Ars est celare Artem_. ’Tis the Foible of your worser Poets to make a Parade and Ostentation of that little Science they have; and to throw it out in the most ambitious Colours. And whenever a Writer of this Class shall attempt to copy these artful Concealments of our Author, and shall either think them easy, or practised by a Writer for his Ease, he will soon be convinced of his Mistake by the Difficulty of reaching the Imitation of them.

Speret idem, sudet multùm, frustráq; laboret, Ausus idem:----

Another grand Touch of Nature in our Author, (not less difficult to imitate, tho’ more obvious to the Remark of a common Reader) is, when he brings down at once any _Character_ from the Ferment and Height of Passion, makes him correct himself for the unruly Disposition, and fall into Reflexions of a sober and moral Tenour. An exquisite fine Instance of this Kind occurs in _Lear_, where that old King, hasty and intemperate in his Passions, coming to his Son and Daughter _Cornwall_, is told by the Earl of _Gloucester_ that they are not to be spoken with: and thereupon throws himself into a Rage, supposing the Excuse of Sickness and Weariness in them to be a purpos’d Contempt: _Gloucester_ begs him to think of the fiery and unremoveable Quality of the Duke: and This, which was design’d to qualify his Passion, serves to exaggerate the Transports of it.

As the Conduct of Prince _Henry_ in the first Instance, the secret and mental Reflexions in the Case of _Prospero_, and the instant Detour of _Lear_ from the Violence of Rage to a Temper of Reasoning, do so much Honour to that surprizing Knowledge of human Nature, which is certainly our Author’s Masterpiece, I thought, they could not be set in too good a Light. Indeed, to point out, and exclaim upon, all the Beauties of _Shakespeare_, as they come singly in Review, would be as insipid, as endless; as tedious, as unnecessary: But the Explanation of those Beauties, that are less obvious to common Readers, and whose Illustration depends on the Rules of just Criticism, and an exact Knowledge of human Life, should deservedly have a Share in a general Critic upon the Author.

[Sidenote*: Mr. _Addison_ and _He_ compared, on a similar Topick.]

I shall dismiss the Examination into these his latent Beauties, when I have made a short Comment upon a remarkable Passage from _Julius Cæsar_, which is inexpressibly fine in its self, *and greatly discovers our Author’s Knowledge and Researches into Nature.

Between the acting of a dreadful Thing, And the first Motion, all the _Interim_ is Like a Phantasma, or a hideous Dream: The Genius, and the mortal Instruments Are then in Council; and the State of Man, Like to a little Kingdom, suffers then The Nature of an Insurrection.

That nice Critick _Dionysius_ of _Halicarnassus_ confesses, that he could not find those great Strokes, which he calls the _terrible Graces_, in any of the Historians, which he frequently met with in _Homer_. I believe, the Success would be the same likewise, if we sought for them in any other of _our_ Authors besides our _British_ HOMER, _Shakespeare_. This Description of the Condition of Conspirators has a Pomp and Terror in it, that perfectly astonishes. Our excellent Mr. _Addison_, whose Modesty made him sometimes diffident in his own Genius, but whose exquisite Judgment always led him to the safest Guides, as we may see by those many fine Strokes in his _Cato_ borrow’d from the _Philippics_ of _Cicero_, has paraphrased this fine Description; but we are no longer to expect those _terrible Graces_, which he could not hinder from evaporating in the Transfusion.

O think, what anxious Moments pass between The Birth of Plots, and their last fatal Periods. Oh, ’tis a dreadful Interval of Time, Fill’d up with Horror all, and big with Death.

I shall observe two Things on this fine Imitation: first, that the Subjects of these two Conspiracies being so very different, (the Fortunes of _Cæsar_ and the _Roman_ Empire being concern’d in the First; and That of only a few Auxiliary Troops, in the other;) Mr. _Addison_ could not with Propriety bring in that magnificent Circumstance, which gives the terrible Grace to _Shakespeare_’s Description.

The Genius and the mortal Instruments Are then in Council.----