Let us read again those lines: O, could he but have drawn his wit As well in brass as he hath hit His face, the print would then surpass All that was ever writ-in brass! That is to say, his wit drawn in brass would surpass, in brass, all that was ever written. Is not this another way of intimating that only a brazen-faced man, like Shakspere, would have had the impudence to claim the authorship of plays which were not written by him? And that this is not a forced construction we can see by turning to the Plays, where we will find the words brass and brazen used in the same sense as equivalents for impudence. Can any face of brass hold longer out?1 Well said, brazen-face.' A brazen-faced valet.3 It seems to me there is even a double meaning to some of the introductory verses of the Folio of 1623, signed Ben Jonson. The verses are inscribed— To the memory of my beloved-the Author-Mr. William Shakespeareand-what he hath left us. What does this mean: "what he hath left us"? Does it mean his works? How could Ben Jonson inscribe verses to the memory of works-plays? We speak of the memory of persons, not of productions; of that which has passed away and perished, not of that which is but beginning to live; not of the Soul of the age! The applause! delight! the wonder of our stage! In the same volume, on the next page, we are told, For though his line of life went soon about, The life yet of his lines will never out. Could Ben Jonson inscribe his verses to the memory of works which, he assures us in the same breath, were not "for an age, but for all time"? Can you erect a memorial monument over immortal life? What did William Shakspere leave behind him that held any connection with the Plays? Was it the real author-Francis Bacon? 1 Love's Labor Lost, v, 2. 'Merry Wives of Windsor, iv, 2. Lear, li, 2. And this thought seems to pervade the verses. Jonson says: And again: Sweet Swan of Avon! what a sight it were To see thee in our waters yet appear, And make those flights upon the banks of Thames, That so did take Eliza and our James. That is to say, Ben Jonson expresses to the dead Shakspere the hope that he would reappear and make some more dramatic "flights"—that is, write some more plays. Such a wish would be absurd, if applied to the dead man, but would be very significant, if the writer knew that the real author was still alive and capable of new flights. And the closing words of the verses sound like an adjuration to Bacon to resume his pen: Shine forth, thou Starre of Poets, and with rage Or influence chide or cheer the drooping stage, Which, since thy flight from thence, hath mourned like night, And despaires day, but for thy volumes' light. The play-houses had the manuscript copies of the Plays, and had been regularly acting them; it needed not, therefore, the publication of the Folio in 1623 to enable the poet to shine forth. If the "drooping, stage" "mourned like night," it was not for the Plays which appear in the Folio, for it possessed them; it had been acting them for twenty years; but it was because the supply of new plays had given out. Hugh Holland says on the next page: Dry'd is that vein, dry'd is the Thespian spring. How comes it, then, that Ben Jonson expresses the hope that the author would reappear, and write new plays, and cheer the drooping stage, and shine forth again, if he referred to the man whose mouldering relics had been lying in the Stratford church for seven years? X. BEN JONSON'S TESTIMONY. It must not be forgotten that Ben Jonson was in the employment of Francis Bacon; he was one of his "good pens;" he helped him to translate his philosophical works into Latin. If there was a secret in connection with the authorship of the Plays, Ben Jonson, as Bacon's friend, as play-actor and play-writer, doubtless knew it. And it is very significant that at different periods, far apart, he employed precisely the same words in describing the genius of William Shakspere and the genius of Francis Bacon. In these verses, from which I have been quoting, he says, speaking ostensibly of Shakspere: Or when thy socks were on, Leave thee alone, for the comparison Of all that insolent Greece or haughty Rome Sent forth, or since did from their ashes come. Jonson died in 1637. His memoranda, entitled Ben Jonson's Discoveries, were printed in 1640. One of these refers to the eminent men of his own and the preceding era. After speaking of Sir Thomas More, the Earl of Surrey, Challoner, the elder Wyatt, Sir Nicholas Bacon, Sir Philip Sydney, the Earl of Essex and Sir Walter Raleigh, he says: Lord Egerton, a grave and great orator, and best when he was provoked; but his learned and able but unfortunate successor (Sir Francis Bacon) is he that hath filled up all numbers, and performed that in our tongue which may be compared or preferred either to insolent Greece or haughty Rome. What a significant statement is this! Francis Bacon had “filled up all numbers." That is to say, he had compassed all forms of poetical composition. Webster defines "numbers" thus: That which is regulated by count; poetic measure, as divisions of time or number of syllables; hence, poetry, verse-chiefly used in the plural. I lisped in numbers, for the numbers came.-Pope. In Love's Labor Lost, Longaville says, speaking of some love verses he had written: I fear these stubborn lines lack power to move; O sweet Maria, empress of my love, But when Ben Jonson, who had helped translate some of Bacon's prose works, comes to sum up the elements of his patron's greatness, he passes by his claims as a philosopher, a scholar, a lawyer, an orator and a statesman; and the one thing that stands out vividly before his mind's eye, that looms up above all other considerations, is that Francis Bacon is a poet - a great poet-a poet who has written in all measures, "has filled up all numbers -the sonnet, the madrigal, rhyming verse, blank verse. And what had he written? Was it the translation of a few psalms in his old 1 Act iv, scene 3. H |