Eighteenth Century Essays on Shakespeare Part 7

It is not certain that any one of his Plays was published by himself.

During the time of his employment in the Theatre, several of his pieces were printed separately in Quarto. What makes me think that most of these were not publish'd by him, is the excessive carelessness of the press: every page is so scandalously false spelled, and almost all the learned and unusual words so intolerably mangled, that it's plain there either was no Correcter to the press at all, or one totally illiterate. If any were supervised by himself, I should fancy the two parts of _Henry the 4th_ and _Midsummer-Night's Dream_ might have been so: because I find no other printed with any exactness; and (contrary to the rest) there is very little variation in all the subsequent editions of them. There are extant two Prefaces, to the first quarto edition of _Troilus_ and _Cressida_ in 1609, and to that of _Oth.e.l.lo_; by which it appears, that the first was publish'd without his knowledge or consent, and even before it was acted, so late as seven or eight years before he died: and that the latter was not printed till after his death. The whole number of genuine plays which we have been able to find printed in his life-time, amounts but to eleven.

And of some of these, we meet with two or more editions by different printers, each of which has whole heaps of trash different from the other: which I should fancy was occasion'd by their being taken from different copies, belonging to different Playhouses.

The folio edition (in which all the plays we now receive as his were first collected) was published by two Players, _Heming_ and _Condell_, in 1623, seven years after his decease. They declare that all the other editions were stolen and surrept.i.tious, and affirm theirs to be purged from the errors of the former. This is true as to the literal errors, and no other; for in all respects else it is far worse than the Quarto's:

First, because the additions of trifling and bombast pa.s.sages are in this edition far more numerous. For whatever had been added, since those Quarto's, by the actors, or had stolen from their mouths into the written parts, were from thence conveyed into the printed text, and all stand charged upon the Author. He himself complained of this usage in _Hamlet_, where he wishes that _those who play the Clowns wou'd speak no more than is set down for them_ (Act 3. Sc. 4.). But as a proof that he could not escape it, in the old editions of _Romeo_ and _Juliet_ there is no hint of a great number of the mean conceits and ribaldries now to be found there.

In others, the low scenes of Mobs, Plebeians, and Clowns, are vastly shorter than at present: And I have seen one in particular (which seems to have belonged to the Playhouse, by having the parts divided with lines, and the Actors names in the margin) where several of those very pa.s.sages were added in a written hand, which are since to be found in the folio.

In the next place, a number of beautiful pa.s.sages which are extant in the first single editions, are omitted in this: as it seems, without any other reason than their willingness to shorten some scenes: These men (as it was said of _Procrustes_) either lopping or stretching an Author, to make him just fit for their Stage.

This edition is said to be printed from the _Original Copies_; I believe they meant those which had lain ever since the Author's days in the playhouse, and had from time to time been cut, or added to, arbitrarily.

It appears that this edition, as well as the Quarto's, was printed (at least partly) from no better copies than the _Prompter's Book_ or _Piece-meal Parts_ written out for the use of the actors: For in some places their very(38) names are thro' carelessness set down instead of the _Personae Dramatis_: And in others the notes of direction to the _Property-men_ for their _Moveables_, and to the _Players_ for their _Entries_,(39) are inserted into the Text, thro' the ignorance of the Transcribers.

The Plays not having been before so much as distinguish'd by _Acts_ and _Scenes_, they are in this edition divided according as they play'd them; often when there is no pause in the action, or where they thought fit to make a breach in it, for the sake of Musick, Masques, or Monsters.

Sometimes the scenes are transposed and shuffled backward and forward; a thing which could no otherwise happen, but by their being taken from separate and piece-meal-written parts.

Many verses are omitted intirely, and others transposed; from whence invincible obscurities have arisen, past the guess of any Commentator to clear up, but just where the accidental glympse of an old edition enlightens us.

Some Characters were confounded and mix'd, or two put into one, for want of a competent number of actors. Thus in the Quarto edition of _Midsummer-Night's Dream_, Act 5, _Shakespear_ introduces a kind of Master of the Revels called _Philostratus_: all whose part is given to another character (that of _aegeus_) in the subsequent editions: So also in _Hamlet_ and _King Lear_. This too makes it probable that the Prompter's Books were what they call'd the Original Copies.

From liberties of this kind, many speeches also were put into the mouths of wrong persons, where the Author now seems chargeable with making them speak out of character: Or sometimes perhaps for no better reason than that a governing Player, to have the mouthing of some favourite speech himself, would s.n.a.t.c.h it from the unworthy lips of an Underling.

Prose from verse they did not know, and they accordingly printed one for the other throughout the volume.

Having been forced to say so much of the Players, I think I ought in justice to remark, that the Judgment, as well as Condition, of that cla.s.s of people was then far inferior to what it is in our days. As then the best Playhouses were Inns and Taverns (the _Globe_, the _Hope_, the _Red Bull_, the _Fortune_, &c.), so the top of the profession were then meer Players, not Gentlemen of the stage: They were led into the b.u.t.tery by the Steward, not plac'd at the Lord's table, or Lady's toilette: and consequently were intirely depriv'd of those advantages they now enjoy, in the familiar conversation of our n.o.bility, and an intimacy (not to say dearness) with people of the first condition.

From what has been said, there can be no question but had _Shakespear_ published his works himself (especially in his latter time, and after his retreat from the stage) we should not only be certain which are genuine; but should find in those that are, the errors lessened by some thousands.

If I may judge from all the distinguis.h.i.+ng marks of his style, and his manner of thinking and writing, I make no doubt to declare that those wretched plays, _Pericles_, _Locrine_, _Sir John Oldcastle_, _Yorks.h.i.+re Tragedy_, _Lord Cromwell_, _The Puritan_, and _London Prodigal_, cannot be admitted as his. And I should conjecture of some of the others (particularly _Love's Labour's Lost_, _The Winter's Tale_, and _t.i.tus Andronicus_), that only some characters, single scenes, or perhaps a few particular pa.s.sages, were of his hand. It is very probable what occasion'd some Plays to be supposed _Shakespear_'s was only this; that they were pieces produced by unknown authors, or fitted up for the Theatre while it was under his administration: and no owner claiming them, they were adjudged to him, as they give Strays to the Lord of the Manor: A mistake which (one may also observe) it was not for the interest of the House to remove. Yet the Players themselves, _Hemings_ and _Condell_, afterwards did _Shakespear_ the justice to reject those eight plays in their edition; tho' they were then printed in his name, in every body's hands, and acted with some applause (as we learn from what _Ben Johnson_ says of _Pericles_ in his Ode on the _New Inn_). That _t.i.tus Andronicus_ is one of this cla.s.s I am the rather induced to believe, by finding the same Author openly express his contempt of it in the _Induction_ to _Bartholomew-Fair_, in the year 1614, when _Shakespear_ was yet living. And there is no better authority for these latter sort, than for the former, which were equally published in his lifetime.

If we give into this opinion, how many low and vicious parts and pa.s.sages might no longer reflect upon this great Genius, but appear unworthily charged upon him? And even in those which are really his, how many faults may have been unjustly laid to his account from arbitrary Additions, Expunctions, Transpositions of scenes and lines, confusion of Characters and Persons, wrong application of Speeches, corruptions of innumerable Pa.s.sages by the Ignorance, and wrong Corrections of 'em again by the Impertinence, of his first Editors? From one or other of these considerations, I am verily perswaded, that the greatest and the grossest part of what are thought his errors would vanish, and leave his character in a light very different from that disadvantageous one, in which it now appears to us.

This is the state in which _Shakespear_'s, writings lye at present; for since the above-mentioned Folio Edition, all the rest have implicitly followed it, without having recourse to any of the former, or ever making the comparison between them. It is impossible to repair the Injuries already done him; too much time has elaps'd, and the materials are too few. In what I have done I have rather given a proof of my willingness and desire, than of my ability, to do him justice. I have discharg'd the dull duty of an Editor to my best judgment, with more labour than I expect thanks, with a religious abhorrence of all Innovation, and without any indulgence to my private sense or conjecture. The method taken in this Edition will show it self. The various Readings are fairly put in the margin, so that every one may compare 'em; and those I have prefer'd into the Text are constantly _ex fide Codic.u.m_, upon authority. The Alterations or Additions which _Shakespear_ himself made, are taken notice of as they occur. Some suspected pa.s.sages which are excessively bad (and which seem Interpolations by being so inserted that one can intirely omit them without any chasm or deficience in the context) are degraded to the bottom of the page; with an Asterisk referring to the places of their insertion.

The Scenes are mark'd so distinctly that every removal of place is specify'd; which is more necessary in this Author than any other, since he s.h.i.+fts them more frequently: and sometimes, without attending to this particular, the reader would have met with obscurities. The more obsolete or unusual words are explained. Some of the most s.h.i.+ning pa.s.sages are distinguish'd by comma's in the margin; and where the beauty lay not in particulars but in the whole, a star is prefix'd to the scene. This seems to me a shorter and less ostentatious method of performing the better half of Criticism (namely the pointing out an Author's excellencies) than to fill a whole paper with citations of fine pa.s.sages, with _general Applauses_, or _empty Exclamations_ at the tail of them. There is also subjoin'd a Catalogue of those first Editions by which the greater part of the various readings and of the corrected pa.s.sages are authorised (most of which are such as carry their own evidence along with them). These Editions now hold the place of Originals, and are the only materials left to repair the deficiences or restore the corrupted sense of the Author: I can only wish that a greater number of them (if a greater were ever published) may yet be found, by a search more successful than mine, for the better accomplishment of this end.

I will conclude by saying of _Shakespear_, that with all his faults, and with all the irregularity of his _Drama_, one may look upon his works, in comparison of those that are more finish'd and regular, as upon an ancient majestick piece of _Gothick_ Architecture, compar'd with a neat Modern building: The latter is more elegant and glaring, but the former is more strong and more solemn. It must be allow'd that in one of these there are materials enough to make many of the other. It has much the greater variety, and much the n.o.bler apartments; tho' we are often conducted to them by dark, odd, and uncouth pa.s.sages. Nor does the Whole fail to strike us with greater reverence, tho' many of the Parts are childish, ill-plac'd, and unequal to its grandeur.

LEWIS THEOBALD: PREFACE TO EDITION OF SHAKESPEARE. 1733.

The Attempt to write upon SHAKESPEARE is like going into a large, a s.p.a.cious, and a splendid Dome thro' the Conveyance of a narrow and obscure Entry. A Glare of Light suddenly breaks upon you beyond what the Avenue at first promis'd: and a thousand Beauties of Genius and Character, like so many gaudy Apartments pouring at once upon the Eye, diffuse and throw themselves out to the Mind. The Prospect is too wide to come within the Compa.s.s of a single View: 'tis a gay Confusion of pleasing Objects, too various to be enjoyed but in a general Admiration; and they must be separated, and ey'd distinctly, in order to give the proper Entertainment.

And as in great Piles of Building, some Parts are often finish'd up to hit the Taste of the _Connoisseur_; others more negligently put together, to strike the Fancy of a common and unlearned Beholder: Some Parts are made stupendously magnificent and grand, to surprize with the vast Design and Execution of the Architect; others are contracted, to amuse you with his Neatness and Elegance in little. So, in _Shakespeare_, we may find _Traits_ that will stand the Test of the severest Judgment; and Strokes as carelessly hit off, to the Level of the more ordinary Capacities: Some Descriptions rais'd to that Pitch of Grandeur, as to astonish you with the Compa.s.s and Elevation of his Thought; and others copying Nature within so narrow, so confined a Circle, as if the Author's Talent lay only at drawing in Miniature.

In how many points of Light must we be obliged to gaze at this great Poet!

In how many Branches of Excellence to consider and admire him! Whether we view him on the Side of Art or Nature, he ought equally to engage our Attention: Whether we respect the Force and Greatness of his Genius, the Extent of his Knowledge and Reading, the Power and Address with which he throws out and applies either Nature or Learning, there is ample scope both for our Wonder and Pleasure. If his Diction and the cloathing of his Thoughts attract us, how much more must we be charm'd with the Richness and Variety of his Images and Ideas! If his Images and Ideas steal into our Souls, and strike upon our Fancy, how much are they improv'd in Price, when we come to reflect with what Propriety and Justness they are apply'd to Character! If we look into his Characters, and how they are furnish'd and proportion'd to the Employment he cuts out for them, how are we taken up with the Mastery of his Portraits! What Draughts of Nature! What Variety of Originals, and how differing each from the other! How are they dress'd from the Stores of his own luxurious Imagination; without being the Apes of Mode, or borrowing from any foreign Wardrobe! Each of them are the standards of Fas.h.i.+on for themselves: like Gentlemen that are above the Direction of their Tailors, and can adorn themselves without the aid of Imitation. If other Poets draw more than one Fool or c.o.xcomb, there is the same Resemblance in them as in that Painter's Draughts, who was happy only at forming a Rose: you find them all younger Brothers of the same Family, and all of them have a Pretence to give the same Crest: But _Shakespeare_'s Clowns and Fops come all of a different House; they are no farther allied to one another than as Man to Man, Members of the same Species: but as different in Features and Lineaments of Character, as we are from one another in Face or Complexion. But I am unawares lanching into his Character as a Writer, before I have said what I intended of him as a private Member of the Republick.

Mr. _Rowe_ has very justly observ'd, that People are fond of discovering any little personal Story of the Great Men of Antiquity; and that the common Accidents of their Lives naturally become the Subject of our critical Enquiries: That however trifling such a Curiosity at the first View may appear, yet, as for what relates to Men of Letters, the Knowledge of an Author may, perhaps, sometimes conduce to the better understanding his Works: And, indeed, this Author's Works, from the bad Treatment he has met with from Copyists and Editors, have so long wanted a Comment, that one would zealously embrace every Method of Information that could contribute to recover them from the injuries with which they have so long lain o'erwhelm'd.

'Tis certain that if we have first admir'd the Man in his Writings, his Case is so circ.u.mstanc'd that we must naturally admire the Writings in the Man: That if we go back to take a View of his Education, and the Employment in Life which Fortune had cut out for him, we shall retain the stronger Ideas of his extensive Genius.

His Father, we are told, was a considerable Dealer in Wool; but having no fewer than ten Children, of whom our _Shakespeare_ was the eldest, the best education he could afford him was no better than to qualify him for his own Business and Employment. I cannot affirm with any Certainty how long his Father liv'd; but I take him to be the same Mr. _John Shakespeare_ who was living in the Year 1599, and who then, in Honour of his Son, took out an Extract of his Family Arms from the Herald's Office; by which it appears, that he had been Officer and Bailiff of _Stratford_ upon _Avon_ in _Warwicks.h.i.+re_; and that he enjoy'd some hereditary Lands and Tenements, the Reward of his Great Grandfather's faithful and approved Service to King _Henry_ VII.

Be this as it will, our _Shakespeare_, it seems, was bred for some Time at a Free-School; the very Free-School, I presume, founded at _Stratford_: where, we are told, he acquired what _Latin_ he was master of: but that his Father being oblig'd, thro' Narrowness of Circ.u.mstance, to withdraw him too soon from thence, he was thereby unhappily prevented from making any Proficiency in the Dead Languages: A Point that will deserve some little Discussion in the Sequel of this Dissertation.

How long he continued in his Father's Way of Business, either as an a.s.sistant to him, or on his own proper Account, no Notices are left to inform us: nor have I been able to learn precisely at what Period of Life he quitted his native _Stratford_, and began his Acquaintance with _London_ and the _Stage_.

In order to settle in the World after a Family-manner, he thought fit, Mr.

_Rowe_ acquaints us, to marry while he was yet very young. It is certain he did so: for by the Monument in _Stratford_ Church, erected to the Memory of his Daughter _Susanna_, the Wife of _John Hall_, Gentleman, it appears that she died on the 2d Day of _July_, in the Year 1649, aged 66.

So that she was born in 1583, when her Father could not be full 19 Years old; who was himself born in the Year 1564. Nor was she his eldest Child, for he had another Daughter, _Judith_, who was born before her, and who was married to one Mr. _Thomas Quiney_. So that _Shakespeare_ must have entred into Wedlock by that Time he was turn'd of seventeen Years.

Whether the Force of Inclination merely, or some concurring Circ.u.mstances of Convenience in the Match, prompted him to marry so early, is not easy to be determin'd at this Distance: but 'tis probable, a View of Interest might partly sway his Conduct on this Point: for he married the Daughter of one _Hathaway_, a substantial Yeoman in his Neighbourhood, and she had the Start of him in Age no less than eight Years. She surviv'd him, notwithstanding, seven Seasons, and dy'd that very Year in which the _Players_ publish'd the first Edition of his Works in _Folio_, Anno Dom.

1623, at the Age of 67 Years, as we likewise learn from her Monument in _Stratford_ Church.

How long he continued in this kind of Settlement, upon his own Native Spot, is not more easily to be determin'd. But if the Tradition be true of that Extravagance which forc'd him both to quit his Country and Way of Living; to wit, his being engag'd, with a Knot of young Deer-stealers, to rob the Park of Sir _Thomas Lucy_ of _Cherlecot_ near _Stratford_: the Enterprize favours so much of Youth and Levity, we may reasonably suppose it was before he could write full Man. Besides, considering he has left us six and thirty Plays, at least, avow'd to be genuine; and considering too, that he had retir'd from the Stage, to spend the latter Part of his Days at his own Native _Stratford_; the Interval of Time, necessarily required for the finis.h.i.+ng so many Dramatic Pieces, obliges us to suppose he threw himself very early upon the Playhouse. And as he could, probably, contract no Acquaintance with the Drama, while he was driving on the Affair of Wool at home; some Time must be lost, even after he had commenc'd Player, before he could attain Knowledge enough in the Science to qualify himself for turning Author.

It has been observ'd by Mr. _Rowe_, that amongst other Extravagancies which our Author has given to his Sir _John Falstaffe_, in the _Merry Wives_ of _Windsor_, he has made him a Deer-stealer; and that he might at the same Time remember his _Warwicks.h.i.+re_ Prosecutor, under the Name of _Justice Shallow_, he has given him very near the same Coat of Arms, which _Dugdale_, in his Antiquities of that County, describes for a Family there. There are two Coats, I observe, in _Dugdale_, where three Silver Fishes are borne in the Name of _Lucy_; and another Coat, to the Monument of _Thomas Lucy_, Son of Sir _William Lucy_, in which are quarter'd in four several Divisions twelve little Fishes, three in each Division, probably _Luces_. This very Coat, indeed, seems alluded to in _Shallow's_ giving the _dozen_ White _Luces_, and in _Slender_ saying _he may quarter_. When I consider the exceeding Candour and Good-nature of our Author (which inclin'd all the gentler Part of the World to love him; as the Power of his Wit obliged the Men of the most delicate Knowledge and polite Learning to admire him); and that he should throw this humorous Piece of Satire at his Prosecutor, at least twenty Years after the Provocation given; I am confidently persuaded it must be owing to an unforgiving Rancour on the Prosecutor's Side: and if This was the Case, it were Pity but the Disgrace of such an Inveteracy should remain as a lasting Reproach, and _Shallow_ stand as a Mark of Ridicule to stigmatize his Malice.

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 the Muses_, where she laments the Loss of her _w.i.l.l.y_ 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 _Seja.n.u.s_, 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_, _Hemings_, _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 Fdera_). Again, 'tis certain that _Shakespeare_ did not exhibit his _Macbeth_ till after the Union was brought about, and till after King _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 _w.i.l.l.y_, 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 Circ.u.mstance: 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 ingrav'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 _Warwicks.h.i.+re_, 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 interr'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 s.h.i.+llings _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 Cus.h.i.+on 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 Cus.h.i.+on, has been given us by Mr. _Pope_, or his Graver, in this Manner.

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

I confess, I don't conceive the Difference betwixt _Ingenio_ and _Genio_ in the first Verse. They seem to me intirely synonymous 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 _Warwicks.h.i.+re_, has copied this Distich with a Distinction which Mr.

_Rowe_ has follow'd, and which certainly restores us the true Meaning of this 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 Stonebridge, 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 Bachelor, 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 conomy 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 _Warwicks.h.i.+re_, 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 Ma.n.u.scripts, in the Hands of an ignorant Baker of _Warwick_ (who married one of the Descendants from our _Shakespeare_), were carelessly 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 survived 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.