Chapter 3

For Kingdoms, in the poetical Theology, besides their good, have their evil _Genius_’s likewise: represented here with the most daring Stretch of Fancy, as fitting in Council with the Conspirators, whom he calls the _mortal Instruments_. But this Would have been too great an Apparatus to the Rape, and Desertion, of _Syphax_, and _Sempronius_. Secondly, The other Thing very observable is, that Mr. _Addison_ was so warm’d and affected with the Fire of _Shakespeare_’s Description; that, instead of copying his Author’s Sentiments, he has, before he was aware, given us only the Image of his own Impressions on the reading his great Original. For,

Oh, ’tis a dreadful Interval of Time, Fill’d up with Horror all, and big with Death;

are but the Affections raised by such forcible Images as these;

----All the _Int’rim_ is Like a Phantasma, or a hideous Dream. ----the State of Man, Like to a little Kingdom, suffers then The Nature of an Insurrection.

Comparing the Mind of a Conspirator to an Anarchy, is just and beautiful; but the _Interim_ to a _hideous Dream_ has something in it so wonderfully natural, and lays the human Soul so open, that one cannot but be surpriz’d, that any Poet, who had not himself been, some time or other, engaged in a Conspiracy, could ever have given such Force of Colouring to Truth and Nature.

[Sidenote: The Question on _Shakespeare_’s Learning handled.]

It has been allow’d on all hands, far our Author was indebted to _Nature_; it is not so well agreed, how much he ow’d to _Languages_ and acquir’d _Learning_. The Decisions on this Subject were certainly set on Foot by the Hint from _Ben Jonson_, that he had small _Latin_ and less _Greek_: And from this Tradition, as it were, Mr. _Rowe_ has thought fit peremptorily to declare, that, “It is without Controversy, he had no Knowledge of the Writings of the ancient Poets, for that in his Works we find no Traces of any thing which looks like an Imitation of the Ancients. For the Delicacy of his Taste (_continues He_,) and the natural Bent of his own great Genius (equal, if not superior, to some of the Best of theirs;) would certainly have led him to read and study them with so much Pleasure, that some of their fine Images would naturally have insinuated themselves into, and been mix’d with, his own Writings: so that his not copying, at least, something from them, may be an Argument of his never having read them.” I shall leave it to the Determination of my Learned Readers, from the numerous Passages, which I have occasionally quoted in my Notes, in which our Poet seems closely to have imitated the Classics, whether Mr. _Rowe_’s Assertion be so absolutely to be depended on. The Result of the Controversy must certainly, either way, terminate to our Author’s Honour: how happily he could imitate them, if that Point be allow’d; or how gloriously he could think like them, without owing any thing to Imitation.

Tho’ I should be very unwilling to allow _Shakespeare_ so poor a Scholar, as Many have labour’d to represent him, yet I shall be very cautious of declaring too positively on the other side of the Question: that is, with regard to my Opinion of his Knowledge in the dead Languages. And therefore the Passages, that I occasionally quote from the _Classics_, shall not be urged as Proofs that he knowingly imitated those Originals; but brought to shew how happily he has express’d himself upon the same Topicks. A very learned Critick of our own Nation has declar’d, that a Sameness of Thought and Sameness of Expression too, in Two Writers of a different Age, can hardly happen, without a violent Suspicion of the Latter copying from his Predecessor. I shall not therefore run any great Risque of a Censure, tho’ I should venture to hint, that the Resemblance, in Thought and Expression, of our Author and an Ancient (which we should allow to be Imitation in One, whose Learning was not question’d) may sometimes take its Rise from Strength of Memory, and those Impressions which he ow’d to the School. And if we may allow a Possibility of This, considering that, when he quitted the School, he gave into his Father’s Profession and way of Living, and had, ’tis likely, but a slender Library of Classical Learning; and considering what a Number of Translations, Romances, and Legends, started about his Time, and a little before; (most of which, ’tis very evident, he read;) I think, it may easily be reconcil’d, why he rather schemed his _Plots_ and _Charaters_ from these more latter Informations, than went back to those Fountains, for which he might entertain a sincere Veneration, but to which he could not have so ready a Recourse.

In touching on another Part of his Learning, as it related to the Knowledge of _History_ and _Books_, I shall advance something, that, at first sight, will very much wear the Appearance of a Paradox. For I shall find it no hard Matter to prove, that from the grossest Blunders in History, we are not to infer his real Ignorance of it: Nor from a greater Use of _Latin_ Words, than ever any other _English_ Author used, must we infer his Knowledge of that Language.

A Reader of Taste may easily observe, that tho’ _Shakespeare_, almost in every Scene of his historical Plays, commits the grossest Offences against Chronology, History, and Antient Politicks; yet This was not thro’ Ignorance, as is generally supposed, but thro’ the too powerful Blaze of his Imagination; which, when once raised, made all acquired Knowledge vanish and disappear before it. For Instance, in his _Timon_, he turns _Athens_, which was a perfect Democracy, into an Aristocracy; while he ridiculously gives a Senator the Power of banishing _Alcibiades_. On the contrary, in _Coriolanus_, he makes _Rome_, which at that time was a perfect Aristocracy, a Democracy full as ridiculously, by making the People choose _Coriolanus_ Consul: Whereas, in Fact, it was not till the Time of _Manlius_ _Torquatus_, that the People had a Right of choosing one Consul. But this Licence in him, as I have said, must not be imputed to Ignorance: since as often we may find him, when Occasion serves, reasoning up to the Truth of History; and throwing out Sentiments as justly adapted to the Circumstances of his Subject, as to the Dignity of his Characters, or Dictates of Nature in general.

Then, to come to his Knowledge of the _Latin_ Tongue, ’tis certain, there is a surprising Effusion of _Latin_ Words made _English_, far more than in any one _English_ Author I have seen; but we must be cautious to imagine, this was of his own doing. For the _English_ Tongue, in his Age, began extremely to suffer by an Inundation of _Latin_; and to be overlaid, as it were, by its Nurse, when it had just began to speak by her before-prudent Care and Assistance. And this, to be sure, was occasion’d by the Pedantry of those two Monarchs, _Elizabeth_ and _James_, Both great _Latinists_. For it is not to be wonder’d at, if both the Court and Schools, equal Flatterers of Power, should adapt themselves to the Royal Taste. This, then, was the Condition of the _English_ Tongue when _Shakespeare_ took it up: like a Beggar in a rich Wardrobe. He found the pure native _English_ too cold and poor to second the Heat and Abundance of his Imagination: and therefore was forc’d to dress it up in the Robes, he saw provided for it: rich in themselves, but ill-shaped; cut out to an air of Magnificence, but disproportion’d and cumbersome. To the Costliness of Ornament, he added all the Graces and Decorum of it. It may be said, this did not require, or discover a Knowledge of the _Latin_. To the first, I think, it did not; to the second, it is so far from discovering it, that, I think, it discovers the contrary. To make This more obvious by a modern Instance: The great MILTON likewise labour’d under the like Inconvenience; when he first set upon adorning his own Tongue, he likewise animated and enrich’d it with the _Latin_, but from his own Stock: and so, rather by bringing in the Phrases, than the Words: And This was natural; and will, I believe, always be the Case in the same Circumstances. His Language, especially his Prose, is full of _Latin_ Words indeed, but much fuller of _Latin_ Phrases: and his Mastery in the Tongue made this unavoidable. On the contrary, _Shakespeare_, who, perhaps, was not so intimately vers’d in the _Language_, abounds in the Words of it, but has few or none of its Phrases: Nor, indeed, if what I affirm be true, could He. This I take to be the truest _Criterion_ to determine this long agitated Question.

It may be mention’d, tho’ no certain Conclusion can be drawn from it, as a probable Argument of his having read the Antients; that He perpetually expresses the Genius of _Homer_, and other great Poets of the Old World, in animating all the Parts of his Descriptions; and, by bold and breathing Metaphors and Images, giving the Properties of Life and Action to inanimate Things. He is a Copy too of those _Greek_ Masters in the infinite use of _compound_ and _de-compound Epithets_. I will not, indeed, aver, but that One with _Shakespeare_’s exquisite Genius and Observation might have traced these glaring Characteristics of Antiquity by reading _Homer_ in _Chapman_’s Version.

[Sidenote: _B. Jonson_ and _Shakespeare_ compar’d.]

An additional Word or two naturally falls in here upon the Genius of our Author, as compared with that of _Jonson_ his Contemporary. They are confessedly the greatest Writers our Nation could ever boast of in the _Drama_. The first, we say, owed all to his prodigious natural Genius; and the other a great deal to his Art and Learning. This, if attended to, will explain a very remarkable Appearance in their Writings. Besides those wonderful Masterpieces of Art and Genius, which each has given Us; They are the Authors of other Works very unworthy of them: But with this Difference; that in _Jonson_’s bad Pieces we don’t discover one single Trace of the Author of the _Fox_ and _Alchemist_: but in the wild extravagant Notes of _Shakespeare_, you every now and then encounter Strains that recognize the divine Composer. This Difference may be thus accounted for. _Jonson_, as we said before, owing all his Excellence to his Art, by which he sometimes strain’d himself to an uncommon Pitch, when at other times he unbent and play’d with his Subject, having nothing then to support him, it is no wonder he wrote so far beneath himself. But _Sbakespeare_, indebted more largely to Nature, than the Other to acquired Talents, in his most negligent Hours could never so totally divest himself of his Genius, but that it would frequently break out with astonishing Force and Splendor.

[Sidenote: His Reputation under Disadvantages.]

As I have never propos’d to dilate farther on the Character of my Author, than was necessary to explain the Nature and Use of this Edition, I shall proceed to consider him as a Genius in Possession of an Everlasting Name. And how great that Merit must be, which could gain it against all the Disadvantages of the horrid Condition in which he has hitherto appear’d! Had _Homer_, or any other admir’d Author, first started into Publick so, maim’d and deform’d, we cannot determine whether they had not sunk for ever under the Ignominy of such an ill Appearance. The mangled Condition of _Shakespeare_ has been acknowledg’d by Mr. _Rowe_, who publish’d him indeed, but neither corrected his Text, nor collated the old Copies. This Gentleman had Abilities, and a sufficient Knowledge of his Author, had but his Industry been equal to his Talents. The same mangled Condition has been acknowledg’d too by Mr. _Pope_, who publish’d him likewise, pretended to have collated the old Copies, and yet seldom has corrected the Text but to its Injury. I congratulate with the _Manes_ of our Poet, that this Gentleman has been sparing in _indulging his private Sense_; for He, who tampers with an Author whom he does not understand, must do it at the Expence of his Subject. I have made it evident throughout my Remarks, that he has frequently inflicted a Wound where he intended a Cure. He has acted with regard to our Author, as an Editor, whom LIPSIUS mentions, did with regard to MARTIAL; _Inventus est nescio quis _Popa_, qui non _vitia_ ejus, sed _ipsum_, excîdit._ He has attack’d him like an unhandy _Slaughterman_; and not lopp’d off the _Errors_, but the _Poet_.

[Sidenote: Praise sometimes an Injury.]

When this is found to be the Fact, how absurd must appear the Praises of such an Editor? It seems a moot Point, whether Mr. _Pope_ has done most Injury to _Shakespeare_ as his Editor and Encomiast; or Mr. _Rymer_ done him Service as his Rival and Censurer. Were it every where the true Text, which That Editor in his late pompous Edition gave us, the Poet deserv’d not the large Encomiums bestow’d by him: nor, in that Case, is _Rymer_’s Censure of the Barbarity of his Thoughts, and the Impropriety of his Expressions, groundless. They have Both shewn themselves in an equal _Impuissance_ of suspecting or amending the corrupted Passages: and tho’ it be neither Prudence to censure, or commend, what one does not understand; yet if a Man must do one when he plays the Critick, the latter is the more ridiculous Office. And by That _Shakespeare_ suffers most. For the natural Veneration, which we have for him, makes us apt to swallow whatever is given us as _his_, and let off with Encomiums; and hence we quit all Suspicions of Depravity: On the contrary, the Censure of so divine an Author sets us upon his Defence; and this produces an exact Scrutiny and Examination, which ends in finding out and discriminating the true from the spurious.

It is not with any secret Pleasure, that I so frequently animadvert on Mr. _Pope_ as a Critick; but there are Provocations, which a Man can never quite forget. His Libels have been thrown out with so much Inveteracy, that, not to dispute whether they _should_ come from a _Christian_, they leave it a Question whether they _could_ come from a _Man_. I should be loth to doubt, as _Quintus Serenus_ did in a like Case,

Sive homo, seu similis turpissima bestia nobis, Vulnera dente dedit.

The Indignation, perhaps, for being represented a _Blockhead_, may be as strong in Us as it is in the Ladies for a Reflexion on their _Beauties_. It is certain, I am indebted to Him for some _flagrant Civilities_; and I shall willingly devote a part of my Life to the honest Endeavour of quitting Scores: with this Exception however, that I will not return those Civilities in his _peculiar_ Strain, but confine myself, at lead, to the Limits of _common Decency_. I shall ever think it better to want _Wit_, than to want _Humanity_: and impartial Posterity may, perhaps, be of my Opinion.

[Sidenote: The old Editions faulty, whence.]

But, to return to my Subject; which now calls upon me to inquire into those Causes, to which the Depravations of my Author originally may be assign’d. We are to consider him as a Writer, of whom no authentic Manuscript was extant; as a Writer, whose Pieces were dispersedly perform’d on the several _Stages_ then in Being. And it was the Custom of those Days for the Poets to take a Price of the _Players_ for the Pieces They from time to time furnish’d; and thereupon it was suppos’d, they had no farther Right to print them without the Consent of the _Players_. As it was the Interest of the _Companies_ to keep their Plays unpublish’d, when any one succeeded, there was a Contest betwixt the Curiosity of the Town, who demanded to see it in Print, and the Policy of the _Stagers_, who wish’d to secrete it within their own Walls. Hence, many Pieces were taken down in Short-hand, and imperfectly copied by Ear, from a _Representation_: Others were printed from piece-meal Parts, surreptitiously obtain’d from the Theatres, uncorrect, and without the Poet’s Knowledge. To some of these Causes we owe the train of Blemishes, that deform those Pieces which stole singly into the World in our Author’s Life-time.

There are still other Reasons, which may be suppos’d to have affected the whole Set. When the _Players_ took upon them to publish his Works intire, every Theatre was ransack’d to supply the Copy; and _Parts_ collected which had gone thro’ as many Changes as Performers, either from Mutilations or Additions made to them. Hence we derive many Chasms and Incoherences in the Sense and Matter. Scenes were frequently transposed, and shuffled out of their true Place, to humour the Caprice or suppos’d Convenience of some particular Actor. Hence much Confusion and Impropriety has attended, and embarras’d, the Business and Fable. For there ever have been, and ever will be in Playhouses, a Set of assuming Directors, who know better than the Poet himself the Connexion and Dependance of his Scenes; where Matter is defective, or Superfluities to be retrench’d; Persons, that have the Fountain of _Inspiration_ as peremptorily in them, as Kings have That of _Honour_. To these obvious Causes of Corruption it must be added, that our Author has lain under the Disadvantage of having his Errors propagated and multiplied by Time: because, for near a Century; his Works were republish’d from the faulty Copies without the assistance of any intelligent Editor: which has been the Case likewise of many a _Classic_ Writer.

[Sidenote: The Editor’s Drift and Method.]

[Sidenote*: Difference betwixt this Edition and Dr. _Bentley_’s _Milton_.]

The Nature of any Distemper once found has generally been the immediate Step to a Cure. _Shakespeare_’s Case has in a great Measure resembled That of a corrupt _Classic_; and, consequently, the Method of Cure was likewise to bear a Resemblance. By what Means, and with what Success, this Cure has been effected on ancient Writers, is too well known, and needs no formal Illustration. The Reputation consequent on Tasks of that Nature invited me to attempt the Method here; with this View, the Hopes of restoring to the Publick their greatest Poet in his Original Purity: after having so long lain in a Condition that was a Disgrace to common Sense. To this End I have ventur’d on a Labour, that is the first Assay of the kind on any modern Author whatsoever. For the late Edition of _Milton_ by the Learned *Dr. _Bentley_ is, in the main, a Performance of another Species. It is plain, it was the Intention of that Great Man rather to Correct and pare off the Excrescencies of the _Paradise Lost_, in the manner that _Tucca_ and _Varius_ were employ’d to criticize the _Æneis_ of _Virgil_, than to restore corrupted Passages. Hence, therefore, may be seen either the Iniquity or Ignorance of his Censurers, who, from some Expressions, would make us believe, the _Doctor_ every where gives us his Corrections as the Original Text of the Author; whereas the chief Turn of his Criticism is plainly to shew the World, that if _Milton_ did not write as He would have him, he ought to have wrote so.

I thought proper to premise this Observation to the Readers, as it will shew that the Critic on _Shakespeare_ is of a quite different Kind. His genuine Text is religiously adher’d to, and the numerous Faults and Blemishes, purely his own, are left as they were found. Nothing is alter’d, but what by the clearest Reasoning can be proved a Corruption of the true Text; and the Alteration, a real Restoration of the genuine Reading. Nay, so strictly have I strove to give the true Reading, tho’ sometimes not to the Advantage of my Author, that I have been ridiculously ridicul’d for it by Those, who either were iniquitously for turning every thing to my Disadvantage; or else were totally ignorant of the true Duty of an Editor.

The Science of Criticism, as far as it affects an Editor, seems to be reduced to these three Classes; the Emendation of corrupt Passages; the Explanation of obscure and difficult ones; and an Inquiry into the Beauties and Defects of Composition. This Work is principally confin’d to the two former Parts: tho’ there are some Specimens interspers’d of the latter Kind, as several of the Emendations were best supported, and several of the Difficulties best explain’d, by taking notice of the Beauties and Defects of the Composition peculiar to this Immortal Poet. But This was but occasional, and for the sake only of perfecting the two other Parts, which were the proper Objects of the Editor’s Labour. The third lies open for every willing Undertaker: and I shall be pleas’d to see it the Employment of a masterly Pen.

It must necessarily happen, as I have formerly observ’d, that where the Assistance of Manuscripts is wanting to set an Author’s Meaning right, and rescue him from those Errors which have been transmitted down thro’ a Series of incorrect Editions, and a long Intervention of Time, many Passages must be desperate, and past a Cure; and their true Sense irretrievable either to Care or the Sagacity of Conjecture. But is there any Reason therefore to say, That because All cannot be retriev’d, All ought to be left desperate? We should shew very little Honesty, or Wisdom, to play the Tyrants with an Author’s Text; to raze, alter, innovate, and overturn, at all Adventures, and to the utter Detriment of his Sense and Meaning: But to be so very reserved and cautious, as to interpose no Relief or Conjecture, where it manifestly labours and cries out for Assistance, seems, on the other hand, an indolent Absurdity.

But because the Art of Criticism, both by Those who cannot form a true Judgment of its Effects, nor can penetrate into its Causes, (which takes in a great Number besides the Ladies;) is esteem’d only an arbitrary capricious Tyranny exercis’d on Books; I think proper to subjoin a Word or two about those Rules on which I have proceeded, and by which I have regulated myself in this Edition. By This, I flatter myself, it will appear, my Emendations are so far from being arbitrary or capricious, that They are establish’d with a very high Degree of moral Certainty.

As there are very few Pages in _Shakespeare_, upon which some Suspicions of Depravity do not reasonably arise; I have thought it my Duty, in the first place, by a diligent and laborious Collation to take in the Assistances of all the older Copies.

In his _Historical Plays_, whenever our _English_ Chronicles, and in his Tragedies when _Greek_ or _Roman_ Story, could give any Light; no Pains have been omitted to set Passages right by comparing my Author with his Originals: for, as I have frequently observed, he was a close and accurate Copier where-ever his _Fable_ was founded on _History_.

Where-ever the Author’s Sense is clear and discoverable, (tho’, perchance, low and trivial;) I have not by any Innovation tamper’d with his Text; out of an Ostentation of endeavouring to make him speak better than the Old Copies have done.

Where, thro’ all the former Editions, a Passage has labour’d under flat Nonsense and invincible Darkness, if, by the Addition or Alteration of a Letter or two, I have restored to Him both Sense and Sentiment, such Corrections, I am persuaded, will need no Indulgence.

And whenever I have taken a greater Latitude and Liberty in amending, I have constantly endeavoured to support my Corrections and Conjectures by parallel Passages and Authorities from himself, the surest Means of expounding any Author whatsoever. _Cette voïe d’interpreter un Autheur par lui-même est plus sure que tous les Commentaires_, says a very learned _French_ Critick.