It may very well be doubted whether Shakespeare had any other hand in this play than the enlivening it with some speeches and lines thrown in here and there, which are easily distinguished, as being of a different stamp from the rest. HANMER. To this observation of Mr. Pope, which is very just, Mr. Theobald has added, that this is one of Shakespeare's worst plays, and is less corrupted than any other. Mr. Upton peremptorily determines, that if any proof can be drawn from manner and style, this play must be sent packing, and seek for its parent elsewhere. How otherwise, says he, do painters distinguish copies from originals? and have not authors their peculiar style and manner, from which a true critic can form as unerring judgment as a painter? I am afraid this illustration of a critic's science will not prove what is desired. A painter knows a copy from an original by rules somewhat resembling those by which critics know a translation, which, if it be literal, and literal it must be to resemble the copy of a picture, will be easily distinguished. Copies are known from originals, even when the painter copies his own picture; so, if an author should literally translate his work, he would lose the manner of an original. Mr. Upton confounds the copy of a picture with the imi tation of a painter's manner. Copies are easily known; but good imitations are not detected with equal certainty, and are, by the best judges, often mistaken. Nor is it true that the writer has always peculiarities equally distinguishable with those of the painter. The peculiar manner of each arises from the desire, natural to every per former, of facilitating his subsequent work by recurrence to his former ideas; this recurrence produces that repetition which is called habit. The painter, whose work is partly intellectual and partly manual, has habits of the mind, the eye, and the hand; the writer has only habits of the mind. Yet, some painters have differed as much from themselves as from any other; and I have been told, that there is little resemblance between the first works of Raphael and the last. The same variation may be expected in writers; and if it be true, as it seems, that they are less sub ject to habit, the difference between their works may be yet greater. But by the internal marks of a composition we may discover the author with probability, though seldom with certainty. When I read this play, I cannot but think that I find, both in the serious and ludicrous scenes, the language and sentiments of Shakespeare. It is not indeed one of his most powerful effusions; it has neither many diversities of character, nor striking delineations of life; but it abounds in av beyond most of his plays, and few have more lines or passages, which, singly considered, are eminently beautiful. I am yet inclined to believe that it was not very successful, and suspect that it has escaped corruption, only because, being seldom played, it was less exposed to the hazards of transcription. JOHNSON. This comedy, I believe, was written in 1595. See An Attempt to ascertain the Order of Shakespeare's Plays, Vol. II. MALONE. PERSONS REPRESENTED. DUKE OF MILAN, father to Silvia. PROTEUS,* ANTONIO, father to Proteus. THURIO, a foolish rival to Valentine. LAUNCE, servant to Proteus. PANTHINO, servant to Antonio. Host, where Julia lodges in Milan. JULIA, a lady of Verona, beloved by Proteus. Servants, Musicians. SCENE, sometimes in Verona; sometimes in Milan; and on the frontiers of Mantua. The old copy has-Protheus; but this is merely the antiquated mode of spelling Proteus. Shakespeare's character was so called, from his disposition to change. STEEVENS. TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA. ACT I. SCENE I.—An open Place in Verona. Enter Valentine and PROTEUS. Valentine. CEASE to persuade, my loving Proteus ; But, since thou lov'st, love still, and thrive therein, Pro. Wilt thou be gone? Sweet Valentine, adieu! When thou dost meet good hap; and, in thy danger, Commend thy grievance to my holy prayers, Val. And on a love-book pray for my success. For he was more than over shoes in love. Val. 'Tis true; for you are over boots in love; And yet you never swom the Hellespont. Pro. Over the boots? nay, give me not the boots.' [1] The boot was an instrument of torture used only in Scotland. Bishop Burnet in The History of his own Times. mentions one Maccael, a preacher, who, being suspected of treasonable practices, underwent the punishment so late as 1666" He was put to the torture, which, in Scotland, they call the boots; for they put a pair VOL. I. Val. No, I'll not, for it boots thee not. Pro. What? Val. To be In love, where scorn is bought with groans; coy looks, If haply won, perhaps, a hapless gain; If lost, why then a grievous labour won; Pro. So, by your circumstance, you call me fool. Methinks should not be chronicled for wise. Pro. Yet writers say, As in the sweetest bud Val. And writers say, As the most forward bud Even so by love the young and tender wit Once more adieu: my father at the road Expects my coming, there to see me shipp'd. Pro. And thither will I bring thee, Valentine. Val. Sweet Proteus, no; now let us take our leave. At Milan, let me hear from thee by letters, Pro. All happiness bechance to thee in Milan! Val. As much to you at home! and so, farewell. [Exit. Pro. He after honour hunts, I after love : He leaves his friends, to dignify them more; I leave myself, my friends, and all for love. of iron boots close on the leg, and drive wedges between these and the leg. The common torture was only to drive these in the calf of the leg; but I have been told they were sometimes driven upon the shin bone." REED. |