Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

day. The allegorical character of his great work, The Fairy Queen, is in itself a very unfavourable circumstance for his fame; since few readers have patieace to go through a long poem, which has little or no tangible interest, however beautiful and original the imagery with which it abounds. The critic will not hesitate to acknowledge its superlative merit, whether considered as a work of art or a triumph of imagination; but the general reader, while he frequently pauses to admire the inimitable grace and delicacy of particular passages, will, probably, lay down the work with a feeling of weariness. Yet when we consider the rude state in which Spenser found the language, and the difficalties he must have encountered in adapting it to the elaborate species of metre he has employed, we shall surely feel that it is impossible to praise his prodactions too highly.

BEN JONSON.

THIS erudite and excellent dramatist, who was born at Westminster, 1574, had the singular happiness of receiving his education under the illustrious Camden. His family was reputable, but his mother marrying a second time, his step-father, a bricklayer, taught him his own trade; and we are informed, on tolerably good authority, that a portion of Ben's brick and mortar still exists in Chancerylane. Disgusted with this servile employment, he entered the army, and served in the low countries with great credit; he soon, however, returned to England, and completed his studies at Cambridge. A mere accident seems to have given a direction to his talents: to procure bread, he joined a miserable company of players at the Curtain, in Shoreditch; but his excellence was not to be developed here, he remained poor and unnoticed. In a tavern braw! he had the misfortune to kill his opponent, and being thrown into prison, languished there a considerable time. It does not appear how he obtained his liberty; but he now became the intimate of Shakspeare, whose kindliness of disposition ever prompted him to assist the aspirations of real talent; and under his auspices, he commenced a dramatic writer. His success was complete; his annual play was looked for anxiously, and hailed affectionately; he became one of the chief ornaments of a stage, ennobled with many kindred spirits; and, however it may be the fashion to disregard his writings at present, they certainly abound with excellencies of the highest description. In 1619, be succeeded Daniel as laureat: the salary was only one hundred marks per annum; but on Jonson's application in 1630, it was increased to £100 and a tierce of Spanish wine, annually. Poor Ben, bowever, often suffered all the pangs incident to want; and once, when on a sick bed, in extreme wretchedness, he petitioned Charles I. for pecuniary aid. The monarch sent him ten guineas, on which Jonson said, “His majesty has sent me ten guineas, because I am poor and live in an alley; go and tell him that his soul lives in an alley." Yet, in justice we are bound to state, that Charles once gave him £100, then a large sum, and the above bitter remark might have been breathed in the irritation of a wounded spirit. Jonson died in 1637, aged sixty-three years. His moral character has been questioned; in particular, he is accused of ingratitude to Shakspeare; and, indeed, a passage in his Bartholomew Fair might countenance the charge, did we not possess a noble poem dedicated by Ben to his benefactor's memory.

Jonson's dramas are extremely numerous; they are much more correct and classical than Shakspeare's, but they are not so constantly irradiated by the beams of genius. Every Man in His Humour is the only one of his plays that retains a place on the stage. Yet Volpone has never been equalled in its way, and Sejanus breathes of the

venerable spirit of antiquity, and conjures up before us all the grandeur and glory of old Rome. And why are such dramas as these consigned to oblivion? Dryden's character of Ben is magnificent; the following passage is admirable and extremely just: "If I would compare him with Shakspeare, I must acknowledge him the more correct poet, but Shakspeare the greater wit. Shakspeare was the Homer or father of our dramatic posts; Jonson was the Virgil, the pattern of elaborate.writing; I admire him, but I love Shakspeare."

MASSINGER.

THIS dramatist, second to none but him who never had an equal, Shakspeare, was born 1584, and received his education at Oxford. He was singularly modest and unassuming, claiming no precedence of his associates on account of his lofty endowments, and accepting their praise more as a favour than a right. He lived long and happily; his years glided away in peace, for they were solaced by the applauses of the virtuous, and the testimony of his own conscience. In his old age he reposed in the shade of his laurels, and delighted to direct the energies of those young and ardent spirits who were about to run the race which he had concluded with honour. He lies buried in the same grave with his friend Fletcher, in the churchyard of St. Saviour, Southwark. The following epitaph is from the poems of sir Aston Cokain,

1659:

"In the same grave was Fletcher buried, here
Lies the stage poet, Philip Massinger.

Plays they did write together, were great friends,
And now one grave includes them in their ends.
So whom on earth nothing did part, beneath

Here in their fame they lie, in spite of death." It is quite unaccountable bow this author's works should have fallen into neglect, since a profound knowledge of human nature is evident in every page; and his poetry is rich in that manly sententious eloquence which is so peculiarly effective on the stage. Till very lately, A New Way to Pay Old Debts was the only play of his generally known. Rowe, indeed, had pilfered largely from his Fatal Dowry, and foisted this stolen property on the public under the title of The Fair Penitent; but the trick was unsuspected, for who would take the trouble to read Massinger? A better taste seems now gaining ground. The Duke of Milan has been successfully revived; The Fatal Dowry has appeared in a form more equitable to its author; and, for the credit of the age, we trust the trash of the modern stage will soon give place to the sterling productions of the old English drama.

BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER.

THESE authors, the Pylades and Orestes of literature, are remarkable on several accounts. Their friendship presents the singular and pleasing spectacle of two great geniuses so closely united in their feelings and pursuits, that in upwards of fifty dramas which they wrote conjunctively, it is utterly impossible to distinguish to which of them we are indebted for any particular scene or character. Their compositions are so homogenous, that were we not assured of the contrary, we should ascribe them, without hesitation, to the efforts of a single mind. Here we may observe, that nothing in Shakspeare's age is more worthy of commemoration, than the good understanding which subsisted among the galaxy of master-spirits that adorned those times. They lived together like a family of brothers, no petty jealousies disturbed their community; we continually find them advancing, without ostentation, each other's labours, and engaged in a friendly competition of good offices. Hence we observe many plays written by three or four different hands; and this practice, so opposite to the grovelling selfishness of modern writers, seems to have excited no surprise. The solitary anti

social pride of intellectual superiority was sacrificed
on the altar of friendship. The poetry of Beaumont
and Fletcher's dramas is often exceedingly fine; they
are frequently prosaic, and even common-place,
but these feelings are redeemed by bursts of pas-
sion and eloquence truly overpowering. In nice
discrimination of character too, they are by no
means deficient, and nothing can excuse the de-
pravity of taste which has consigned their works to
dust and silence. They are said to have ridiculed
Shakspeare in some of their plays, particularly in
The Knight of the Burning Pestle. If such liberties
were taken, they gave no offence, for that wonder-
ful man often assisted them in their compositions.
The following soug is from The Nice Valour, or
The Passionate Madman, to which Milton must
have been indebted when he wrote his Il Penseroso:
"Hence all ye vain delights,
As short as are the nights

Wherein you spend your folly!
There's nought in this life sweet,
If we were wise to see't,

But only melancholy;

Oh, sweetest melancholy!
Welcome, folded arms, and fixed eyes,
A sigh that piercing mortifies;

A look that's fasten'd to the ground,
A tongue chain'd up without a sound!
Fountain heads, and pathless groves,
Places which pale passion loves!
Moonlight walks, when all the fowls
Are warmly hous'd, save bats and owls!
A midnight bell, a parting groan!
These are the sounds we feed upon!
Then stretch our bones in a still gloomy valley;
Nothing's so dainty sweet as lovely melancholy."
MARLOWE.

THIS great tragic poet was educated at Cambridge, where he took the degree of B. A. 1583, and of M. A. 1587; his passions appear to have been very violent, and his whole life was stormy and unsettled. His mind was of the highest order; but, imagining for himself a universe of perfect beauty and felicity, he was filled with disgust at the sorrows and disappointments of the real world around him. The manner of his death was extremely tragical: he was passionately fond of a beautiful girl, whose circumstances were but humble : visiting her one evening, he found a low fellow in her company of whom he was jealous; in the frenzy of the moment he drew his poniard, (a weapon then commonly worn,) intending to stab the unwelcome intruder, but his antagonist wrenched the dagger from his grasp, and Marlowe falling forwards, received it in his heart. The wits of his age seem to have had a very high opinion of Marlowe's talents. Heywood, no incompetent judge, styles him the best of poets; and Drayton writes of him thus:

"Next, Marlowe bathed in the Thespian springs, Had in him those brave translunary things, That your first poets had; his raptures were All air and fire, which made his verses clear; For that fine madness still he did retain, Which rightly should possess a poet's brain." The phrase, fine madness, very aptly expresses the character of his genius. In The Tragical History of Dr. Faustus, the reader is continually startled by the wildness and incoherence of the poet's conceptions; he transports us into a world of shadows, and surrounds us with the terrible creations of an

over-excited fancy; yet so distinctly and vividly are these strange imaginations pourtrayed, that we tremble and weep while they pass in review before us. Notwithstanding all his powerful claims to our admiration, Marlowe is scarcely known at present but as the author of a little poem, beginning" Come live with me, and be my love." Kean brought out his Jew of Malta, (perhaps, the worst of his plays,) at Drury-lane Theatre; it attracted for a few nights, but four-legged performers were just then coming into fashion, and the affair was hopeless.

CHAPMAN.

THIS writer, whose lofty endowments have seldom been duly appreciated, was born 1557, and in

his early years owed much to the patronage of sir Thomas Walsingham. Prince Henry, that amiable scion of royalty, and the far-famed earl of Somerset, were also his friends; but his comedy of Eastward Hoe, in which he bitterly reflects on the Scotch, so offended king James that he was obliged to leave the court, and relinquish his prospects of preferment. However, he was one of heaven's nobility, and the frowns of the great could not diminish his self-esteem. He lived respected and died lamented by the best and greatest men of his age. His Translation of Homer surpasses in genius any that has yet appeared. Pope's is more elegant, no doubt; but in all the essentials of true poetry old Chapman has much the advantage. His dramatic performances savour considerably of antiquity, but in reading them we find frequent occasion to commend and admire. Ben Jonson, we are told, was jealous of his great abilities; Shakspeare honoured and fostered them. There is an anonymous poem in praise of this last author which has been attributed to Chapman, and it is calculated to heighten our estimation even of his powers.

WEBSTER.

THIS poet, whose situation in life was very humble, his highest worldly distinction having been that of parish clerk at St. Andrew's, Holborn, was certainly endowed with talents of no common order; and although, from the want of the discipline which education affords, his genius frequently run riot, and developed itself in the most eccentric manner, there can be little doubt that the representation plauding audiences. The public of his day were of his plays was attended by delighted and appassion and imagination; and if an author could content with the great elements of all true poetry, supply these, his productions were not rejected for any deficiencies of elegance and refinement. In his White Devil, and the Duchess of Malfey, the arbitary enactments of criticism, and not seldom bis capital works, Webster continually sins against against the more equitable laws of taste; but he atones for these faults by displaying a strength of passion, and a boldness of imagination, which have hardly ever been surpassed.

MARSTON.

He

THIS poet, like many of his gifted contemporaries, has left no record behind him but his works. appears, however, to have studied at Oxford; and judging from the chastity and purity of bis language, we may suppose, that he formed his style on classic models. His plays are eight in number, but the most remarkable are Antonio and Mellida, 1602; The Malcontent, 1604; and The Wonder of Women, or Sophonisba, 1606; which last is dedicated in warm terms to Ben Jonson, though he afterwards had some disagreement with that poet.

MIDDLETON.

THE Companion of Jonson, Fletcher, Massinger, and Rowley, with all of whom he occasionally wrote in concert, though his fame may safely rest of his dramas bear date so recently as the reign of on compositions which are entirely his own. Some earlier. A Mad World, my Masters, acted by the Charles I. but his best plays were published much Children of Paul's, 1608, is an excellent play; and many modern writers, thinking themselves safe in its obscurity, have pillaged from it very freely. his Country Lasses, have taken the most liberties. Mrs. Behn, in her City Heiress, and Johnson, in

ROWLEY,

THIS dramatist, though inferior to some of his illustrious companions, will deservedly rank high as one of the benefactors of the English stage. He flourished in the reign of James I. and was attached to a company of players belonging to the

prince of Wales. He was rather eminent as a comedian; little is known of him more than his close connexion with all the greatest wits and poets of his age, by whom he was much beloved. He assisted Middleton, Day, Heywood, and Webster, in their writings, and has left us five plays of his own, besides one which he wrote in conjunction with Shakspeare. One of his comedies, A New Wonder, a Woman never Vext, has been revived at Covent Garden Theatre, with considerable success.

JOHN HEYWOOD.

ONE of the first of our dramatic writers, both in point of time and genius. Sir Thomas More was particularly fond of him; he was a frequent companion of the princess Mary, and his musical skill made him agreat favourite with Henry VIII. During the short reign of Edward VI. he still continued at court, admired and beloved; and on Mary's accession to the throne, he was admitted to the closest intimacy that subject could enjoy. The insinuating mildness of his temper, though in absolute contrast to the harshness and irritability of her disposition, frequently softened its asperities; and we are even told that the playful humour of his conversation, occasionally beguiled even the agony of her death-bed. He was of course a zealous catholic; and on the accession of Elizabeth, he went into voluntary exile, and died at Mechlin, in Brabant, 1565. His longest work is entitled A Parable of the Spider and the Flie, of which Holinshed says, "One also hath made a booke of the Spider and the Flie, wherein he dealeth so profoundlie, and beyond all measure of skill, that neither he himselfe that made it, neither anie one that readeth it, can reach into the meaning thereof." His great merit is that he contributed much to bring the Mysteries into disrepute, and to create a taste for more rational stage representations. None of his dramas extend beyond the limits of an interlude; among them we find A Play of Love, 1533, and A Play of Gentleness and Nobilitie, 1535. Heywood can scarcely be called a contemporary of Shakspeare; but he is mentioned here as the first regular dramatist our stage has produced.

THOMAS HEYWOOD.

THE most voluminous of all play-wrights, with the exception of Lope de Vega; for, in a preface to one of his dramas, he informs us, that it was the last of two hundred and twenty in which he "had either an entire hand, or at least a main finger." Such crude and hasty productions were not written for posterity; of most of them we are ignorant, even of the names. Among those preserved are the following: Edward IV. two parts, 1599; Four Prentices of London, 1615; and Maidenhead well Lost, 1634. Heywood also wrote an Apology for Actors, of which fraternity he was himself a member. He was undoubtedly a man of talent: his comic scenes were full of humour, and his tragic ones abound with situations deeply pathetic; but he always writes like an author who is composing by contract, unless his Woman killed with Kindness be an exception.

FORDE.

THIS admirable dramatist was born 1586, and his great talents procured the esteem and friendship of all the excellent writers in whose age he flourish ed. He was most successful in delineating the gloomy scenes of life; he delighted not in the inspirations of Thalia, but mixed all the powers of his melancholy spirit with the dark and terrible visions of Melpomene. Hence one of his contemporaries pleasantly says,

"Deep in a dump, John Forde was alone got,
With folded arms and melancholy hat."

A fine vein of tragedy runs through all his plays; but 'Tis Pity She's a Whore is undoubtedly his

masterpiece, and would have done honour to Shakspeare. The character of Annabella, the heroine, is exquisitely beautiful; and though, in a moral point of view, the situations of the drama are objectionable, we cannot deny that all the legitimate purposes of tragedy, the powerful excitement of terror and pity, are fully attained.

DECKER.

THIS writer's reputation has probably been increased by his quarrel with Ben Jonson, in ridicule of whom he wrote a play called, The Untrussing of a humourous Poet. Yet he was the bosom friend of Webster, Forde, and Rowley, a distinction which nothing but his genius could have purchased him. Brome, too, calls him father, and constantly speaks of him with the utmost reverence and affection. His Honest Whore, and Old Fortunatus, are his best works; the latter, notwithstanding the extreme absurdity of the fable on which it is founded, is illustrated with so much fine writing, that it give us the highest opinion of Decker's abilities. SHIRLEY.

THIS prolific dramatist was of a very ancient family, and was born in London, 1594. He was a pupil at Merchant Tailors' School, and afterwards studied at Oxford, where Dr. Laud conceived a warm affection for him, in regard to his great talents; yet, Shirley purposing to take orders, he would often tell him, "that he was an unfit person to take the sacred function upon him, and should never have his consent." Why does the reader suppose? On account of some moral defect? No; but because Shirley had a large mole on his left cheek, which Laud thought a deformity. He took orders, notwithstanding, and obtained a living at St. Albans; but he shortly became a Romanist, and resigning his preferment, commenced schoolmaster; this new profession growing odious to him, he went to London and began to compose plays. In this way he gained, not merely an existence, but was much encouraged by many of the nobility; and ultimately, queen Henrietta being much pleased with his writings, attached him to her household. During the rebellion, he attended the earl of Newcastle, and was in several battles. The king's cause being ruined, he returned to London, and was supported for some time by Mr. Stanley, the author of The Lives of the Philosophers. Plays were now denounced as an abomination, and he recommenced pedagogue in the White Friars, and continued to brandish his birchen sceptre till the Restoration. The theatre was again open to him, and many of his dramas were performed with great applause. In 1666, occurred the terrible fire of London; he was burnt out of his house near Fleet-street, and removed into the parish of St. Giles's, but being overcome with horror at the frightful conflagration, he and his wife both expired within a few hours, and were buried in the same grave. Shirley succeeded best in comedy; there is a light airy playfulness in his humour which is peculiarly delightful, and must have been quite refreshing to the royalists after the sour fanaticism of the puritans. The Ball, 1639, is a favourable specimen ; but all his dramas, nearly forty in number, are highly amusing. A contemporary poet has this couplet in his honour:

"Shirley (the morning child) the Muses bred,
And sent him born with bays upon his head."
DRAYTON.

FEW writers have been more famous in their day than the author of the Poly-Olbion; a poem, which though at present scarcely ever read, abounds with animated description and elegant illustration. Drayton was a favourite court poet;

he assisted at the coronation of James I. and was never in circumstances to make the praises of the

million important to him. He is said to have written The Merry Devil of Edmonton; but this is doubtful, and were the fact established, it would contribute but little to his fame.

PHINEAS FLETCHER.

THIS poet, whose great genius is obscured by the robe of allegory which it assumed, is the author of a singular production called the Purple Island, in which all the various parts of the human body are described with wonderful ingenuity and truth. The subject was an unhappy one; and the poem, in spite of its great merit, is seldom or ever perused. Fletcher also wrote Piscatory Eclogues, short pieces possessing considerable excellence, and one or two dramatic performances which have no striking recommendation.

DANIEL.

THIS author, who was considerable in his own time, both as a poet and historian, was born 1562. His style is remarkably correct, and at once free from bombastical extravagance and meagre unmeaning simplicity. In Spenser's Colin Clout's Come Home Again, he is highly praised, and indeed most of the writers of that age agree in eulogizing his productions. He succeeded Spenser in the laureateship. His Philotas, 1605, when first acted, gave offence, as it was thought the hero was drawn from Elizabeth's unfortunate favourite, the earl of Essex. In this play he treads closely in the steps of the ancients, and has introduced choruses between the acts. In his Cleopatra, 1594, he follows Plutarch's account of that remarkable woman, and has produced a very excellent drama. The dialogue in both instances is extremely poetical.

[blocks in formation]

have been a favourite actor. But Field's claim to notice rests on better grounds; for Massinger did not think himself disgraced by receiving his assistance in the composition of The Fatal Dowry, and his ability for the task is evident from what he has done in his own dramas. His best plays are, A Woman's a Weathercock, 1612; and

Amends for Ladies, 1618; both of which are highly praised by Chapman, a very competent judge.

PEELE.

A WRITER of pastorals, considered very excelber of antiquity. He was likewise a dramatist of lent in his day, but now forgotten amidst the lamsome eminence; and for many years, as city poet, had the ordering of the pageants on lord mayor's day. His life appears to have been spent in a course of follies and debaucheries of the lowest description, which is the more singular, as he was educated at Oxford, then the school of every virtue. He wrote, among other dramas, Edward the First, 1593; and The Loves of King David and Faire Bethsabe, 1599.

QUARLES.

THE celebrated author of The Emblems, and equally remarkable for his genius and misfortunes. He was educated at Cambridge, where he distinguished himself by unaffected piety and unassuming talent. For a considerable time he was cupbearer to the queen of Bohemia, and chronologer to the city of London. Afterwards, he went over to Ireland, and became secretary to the truly good and amiable prelate, Usher, archbishop of Armagh; but the unsettled state of that country soon forced him to resign his post, and returning to England, he closed his earthly career 1644, aged 52. He was buried in the church of St. Vedast, Foster-lane. Quarles is best known by his Divine Emblems, a work once universally popular, but now, on account of its obsolete quaintness of style, little read, except by a particular class of religionists. He wrote The Virgin Widow, 1649, a play which has no faults and few merits. Langbaine sums up his character of Quarles in these words: "He was a poet that mixed religion and fancy together, and was very careful in all bis writings not to intrench upon good manners by any scurrility in his works, or any ways offending against his duty to God, his neighbour, or himself."

NASH.

AN eccentric and unfortunate man of genius, whose vices were his worst enemies. After a restless life, passed in continual alterations from want to abundance, he died about 1601, as little Pierce Pennilesse is written with infinite fire and lamented in dying, as respected when living. His spirit, but seems to breathe the sentiments of a world. Towards the close of his days, he seems man in a paroxysm of rage against the whole to have repented of his excesses; for in a pamphlet called Christ's Tears over Jerusalem, he writes thus: "A hundred unfortunate farewells to fantasticall satirisme. In those vaines, heretofore I mispent my spirit, and prodigally conspired against good hours. Nothing is there now so much in my vowes as to be at peace with all men, and make submissive amends where I have most displeased. To a little more wit have my increasing yeeres reclaimed mee then I had before; those that have been perverted by any of my workes, let them reade this, and it shall thrice more benefit them. The autumne I imitate, in shedding my leaves with the trees, and so doth the peacock e shead his taile." Nash was peculiarly successful in satire; in an old copy of verses he is thus spoken of:

"Sharply satyric was he, and that way
He went, that since his being, to this day,

Few have attempted; and I surely think
Those words shall hardly be set down in ink,
Shall scorch and blast so as he could when he
Would inflict vengeance."

Nash composed three plays; among them was Dido, Queen of Carthage. Copies of this drama are uncommonly scarce. Malone gave 167. 16s. for one at Dr. Wright's sale.

THOMAS SACKVILLE, LORD BUCK-
HURST.

ONE of the most illustrious noblemen of an age when titular honours were bestowed, not merely as nominal distinctions, but as the best rewards for great and virtuous actions. He is mentioned here on account of his having been concerned in the composition of Ferrex and Porrex, the first regular tragedy ever performed on the English stage. Of this drama, surreptitiously printed under the title of Gorboduc, 1565, and with its present designation 1571, Norton wrote the first three acts, and Lord Buckhurst, then Mr. Sackville, the last two. It was acted by the gentlemen of the Inner Temple, at Whitehall, before queen Elizabeth, on the 18th of January, 1561, many years prior to the appearance of Shakspeare. Sir Philip Sydney in his Defence of Poesie, says, "Our tragedies and comedies, not without cause cried out against, observing rules neither of honest civilitie, nor skilful poetrie, excepting Gorboduc, which, notwithstanding as it is full of stately speeches, climbing to the height of Senaca his style, and as fall of notable moralitie, which it doth most delightfully teach, and so obtain the very end of poesie: yet, in truth, it is very defectious in the circumstances; which grieves me, because it might not remain an exact model of all tragedies. For it is faultie both in place and time, the two necessary companions of all compositions."

LODGE.

A DOCTOR of medicine in great practice towards the end of Elizabeth's reign. He acquired considerable extra-professional reputation, both as a poet and a wit. His dramatic works are, Wounds of Civil War, 1594, and A Looking Glass for London and England, 1594. Judging from these compositions, the writer seems to have been most happy in satire, there is a playful smartness about his jokes, which is highly agreeable and amusing. LYLY.

sion of Loosenesse proffered to the Wanton, quarto, bl. lett. 1582.

Lyly has committed many extravagancies in these productions, and they were, no doubt, much overrated; but the excellencies which they unquestionably contained are now as unjustly overlooked; for if, on the whole, Lyly's attempt must be considered a failure, on such an occasion even failure was glorious, and entitles him to be remembered with respect.

GREEN.

THIS highly talented, but most immoral author, was celebrated, in his day, for a broad and coarse, but spirited and characteristic vein of humour, which runs through all his productions. His dramas are very numerous, and many plays are ascribed to him on mere supposition; but he undoubtedly wrote The History of Friar Bacon and Friar Bongay, 1594; The Comical History of Alphonsus, King of Arragon, 1594; and The Scottishe Story of James the Fourthe, slaine at Flodden, intermixed with a pleasant Comedie presented by Oberon, King of the Fairies, 1599. Of this last play, Shakspeare seems to have made some use in his Midsummer Night's Dream.

[blocks in formation]

His composi

A PROFOUNDLY learned man. tions are in the Latin tongue, and we should not have noticed him but on account of Anth. a' Wood's singular panegyric of his genius: "He was an excellent poet, especially in the Latin language, and reported the best comedian of his time, whether it was Edward, earl of Oxford, Will. Rowley, the once ornament for wit and ingenuity, of Pembroke Hall in Cambridge, Richard Edwards, John Lylie, Tho. Lodge, Geo. Gascoigne, Will. Shakspeare, Tho. Nash, or John Heywood." In 1608, this same Gager, maintained at Oxford, a thesis, that it was lawful for husbands to beat their wives; so that his elaborate Latin dramas have small chance of finding favour with the blues of the nineteenth century. PRESTON.

THIS author, the most popular writer of his times, was born about 1553. He studied first at Oxford, but latterly at Cambridge; being of good family, he followed the court, expecting to be appointed master of the revels, but he reaped nothing from attendance on Elizabeth but disappointing ment, the usual wages of courtiers. He died in the prime of life, 1597, universally regretted and respected. His dramas are nine in number: Alex

THIS person wrote about 1561, A lamentable Tragedie, mixed full of pleasant Mirth; contaynthe Life of Cambises, King of Persia, from the beginning of his Kingdome unto his Death; his one good Deede of Execution after the many wicked Deeds and tirranous Murders committed by and through him; and last of all, his odious Death by God's Justice appointed; doon on such Order as followeth. Which Shakspeare is supposed to ridicale, when he makes Falstaff talk of speaking in king Cambyses' vein. pu

ander and Campaspe, 1584, and Mother Bombie, 1594, are the best; but his claims on the notice of posterity are referable to the two following works, of which we shall give the titles at length, as he therein made the praise-worthy attempt to reform and rify our language from the uncouth, barbarous, and obsolete expressions by which it was then over-run-The Anatomie of Wit, verie pleasant for all Gentlemen to read, and most necessary to remember: wherein are contayued the Delyghts that Wit followeth in his Youth by the pleasantesse of Love, and the Happiness he reapeth in Age by the Perfectnesse of Wisdome, quarto, bl. | lett. 1581.-Euphues and his England, containing his Voyage and Adventures, mixt with sundrie prettie Discourses of honest Love, the Description of the Countrie, the Court, and the Manners of that Isle, delightful to be read, and nothing hurtfall to be regarded: wherein there is small Öffence by Lightnesse given to the Wise, and less Occa

WHETSTONE.

THIS writer is only known by his Promos and Cassandra, a play of which Shakspeare has undoubtedly availed himself in his Measure for Measure. It appears that Whetstone first tried his fortune at court, and dissipated his patrimony in vain expectation of preferment. Destitute of subsistence, he became a soldier, and served with so much credit that he was rewarded with additional pay. Honour, however, is a bad pay-master, and he was compelled to convert his sword into a ploughshare. His farming concerns proved unfortunate, and in his necessity he tried the generosity of his friends. This he found was "a broken reed, and worse than common beggary of charity from

« AnteriorContinuar »