"Thou shouldst have follow'd me, but death to blame Miscounted years, and measur'd age by fame." He was buried by the side of Chaucer and Spenser, in the hallowed earth where it was wished that Shakspere should have been laid :— of his productions becomes almost insig- | indications that Beaumont was regarded by nificant when compared with the more than his contemporaries as a man of great and 66 copious industry " of THOMAS HEYWOOD. original power. It was not with the exHe was a scholar, having been educated at aggeration of a brother's love that Sir John Cambridge at Peterhouse, it is said; but Beaumont wrote his affecting epitaph upon he became an actor as early as 1598, being the death of Francis :— then a sharer in Henslow's company. In 1633 he claimed for himself the authorship, entirely or in part, of two hundred and twenty dramas. Many of his two hundred and twenty dramas were probably such short pieces as 'The Yorkshire Tragedy.' Heywood had the power of stirring the affections, of moving pity and terror by true representations of the course of crime and misery in real life. Charles Lamb has summed up the character of his writings in three lines:"Heywood is a sort of prose Shakspeare. His scenes are to the full as natural and affecting. But we miss the poet, that which in Shakspeare always appears out and above the surface of the nature." Winstanley, not a very trustworthy authority, speaking of Heywood's wonderful fertility, says—“ He not only acted himself almost every day, but also wrote each day a sheet; and that he might lose no time, many of his plays were composed in the tavern, on the back side of tavern bills; which may be an occasion that so many of them are lost." FRANCIS BEAUMONT was a boy at the period to which our slight notice of his great coadjutor Fletcher belongs*. The poetical union of Beaumont and Fletcher has given birth to stories, such as Aubrey delights in telling, that their friendship extended even to a community of lodging and clothes, with others matters in common that are held to belong to the perfection of the social system. We neither believe these things entirely, nor do we quite receive the assertion of Dr. Earle, that Beaumont's "main business was to correct the overflowings of Mr. Fletcher's wit." Edward Phillips repeats this assertion. They first came before the world in the association of a title-page in 1607. The junior always preceded the elder poet in such announcements of their works; and this was probably determined by the alphabetical arrangement. We have many *Book vi. chap. i. page 264. "Renowned Spenser, lie a thought more nigh To lodge all four in one bed make a shift, When Shakspere's company performed at Wilton, in December, 1603, it is more than probable that there was a young man present at those performances, whose course of life might have been determined by the impulses of those festive hours. PHILIP MASSINGER, who in 1603 was nineteen years of age, was the son of a gentleman filling a service of trust in the household of the Earls of Pembroke. At this period Philip was a commoner of St. Alban Hall, Oxford. "Being sufficiently famed for several specimens of wit, he betook himself to making plays." This is Anthony Wood's account of the dedication of Massinger to a pursuit which brought him little but hopeless poverty. Amongst Henslow's papers was found an undated letter, addressed to him by Nathaniel Field, with postscripts signed by Robert Daborne and Philip Massinger. Malone conjectures that the letter was written between 1612 and 1615, Henslow having died in January, 1616. The letter, which is a melancholy illustration of the oft-told tale of the misfortunes of genius, was first given in the additions to Malone's • Historical Account of the English Stage : '— "To our most loving friend, Mr. Philip Hinchlow, and died: "However I could never arrive Esquire, These. "Mr. Hinchlow, "You understand our unfortunate extremity, and I do not think you so void of Christianity but that you would throw so much money into the Thames as we request now of you, rather than endanger so many innocent lives. You know there is xl. more at least to be received of you for the play. We desire you to lend us vl. of that; which shall be allowed to you; without which we cannot be bailed, nor I play any more till this be dispatched. It will lose you xxl. ere the end of the next week, besides the hinderance of the next new play. Pray, Sir, consider our cases with humanity, and now give us cause to acknowledge you our true friend in time of need. We have entreated Mr. Davison to deliver this note, as well to witness your love as our promises, and always acknowledgment to be ever "Your most thankful and loving friends, "NAT. FIELD. "The money shall be abated out of the money remains for the play of Mr. Fletcher and ours. "ROBERT DABORNE. "I have ever found you a true loving friend to me, and in so small a suit, it being honest, I hope you will not fail us. "PHILIP MASSINGER." By an indorsement on the letter it is shown that Henslow made the advance which these unfortunate men required. But how was it that Massinger, who was brought up under the patronage of a family distinguished for their encouragement of genius, was doomed to struggle with abject penury?* Gifford conjectures that he became a Roman Catholic early in life, and thus gave offence to the noble family with whom his father had been so intimately connected. In 1623 Massinger published his 'Bondman,' dedicating it to the second of the Herberts, Philip, Earl of Montgomery. The dedication shows that he had been an alien from the at the happiness to be made known to your Lordship, yet a desire, born with me, to make a tender of all duties and service to the noble family of the Herberts descended to me as an inheritance from my dead father, Arthur Massinger. Many years he happily spent in the service of your honourable house, and died a servant to it." There is something unintelligible in all this; though we may well believe with Gifford that, “whatever might be the unfortunate circumstance which deprived the author of the patronage and protection of the elder branch of the Herberts, he did not imagine it to be of a disgraceful nature; or he would not, in the face of the public, have appealed to his connexions with the family."* It is difficult to trace the course of Massinger's poetical life. The Virgin Martyr,' in which he was assisted by Dekker, was the first printed of his plays; and that did not appear till 1622. But there can be little doubt that it belongs to an earlier period; for in 1620 a fee was It would paid to the Master of the Revels on the occasion of "New reforming The Virgin Martyr." The 'Bondman' was printed within a year after it was produced upon the stage; and from that period till the time of his death several of his plays were published, but at very irregular intervals. appear that during the early portion of his career Massinger was chiefly associated with other writers. To the later period belong his great works, such as 'The Duke of Milan,' 'The City Madam,' and the 'New Way to pay Old Debts.' Taken altogether, Massinger was perhaps the worthiest successor of Shakspere; and this indeed is praise enough. NAT. FIELD, the writer of the letter to Henslow, was a player, as we learn by that letter. The same document shows that he was a player in the service of Henslow. But he is mentioned in the first folio edition of house in the service of which his father lived Shakspere's plays, as one of the principal * In Mr. Collier's Memoirs of Actors' the fact of Massinger's burial at St. Saviour's church, in 1639, being recorded as that of Philip Masenger, stranger,' is not regarded as any indication of his poverty and loneliness: "Every person, there interred, who did not belong to the parish, was called a stranger." The payment of 21. for expenses would show "that Massinger was interred with peculiar cost and ceremony." actors in them. The best evidence of the genius of Field is his association with Massinger in the noble play of 'The Fatal Dowry.' He probably was not connected with Shakspere's company during Shakspere's * Introduction to the Works of Massinger. life; but he is named in a patent to the actors at the Blackfriars and Globe in 1620. Robert Daborne, who was associated with Field and Massinger in their "extremity," was either at this period, or subsequently, in holy orders. THOMAS MIDDLETON was a contemporary of Shakspere. We find him early associated with other writers, and in 1602 was published his comedy of 'Blurt Master-Constable.' Edward Phillips describes him as "a copious writer for the English stage, contemporary with Jonson and Fletcher, though not of equal repute, and yet on the other side not altogether contemptible." He continued to write on till the suppression of the theatres, and the opinion of Phillips was the impression as to his powers at the period of the Restoration. Ford,-who has truly been called “of the first order of poets"-Rowley, Wilson, Hathway, Porter, Houghton, Day, Tourneur, Taylor, arose as the day-star of Shakspere was setting. Each might have been remarkable in an age of mediocrity, some are still illustrious. The great dramatic literature of England was the creation of half a century only; and in that short space was heaped up such a prodigality of riches that we regard this wondrous accumulation with something too much of indifference to the lesser gems, dazzled by the lustre of the "One entire and perfect chrysolite." CHAPTER II. THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. THE title-page of the original edition of "The | into violent conflict, rendered the works, in 1647, for the reason assigned in the stage so The pro justly obnoxious to the Puritans. "If we let fall the nobleness of this, And the first sound this child hear be a hiss, How will it shake the bones of that good man, And make him cry from under-ground, 'Oh, fan From me the witless chaff of such a writer That blasts my bays, and my famed works makes lighter Than Robin Hood?"" The expression "such a writer" is almost evidence against the double authorship. It implies, too, that, if Fletcher were the author, the play was presented before his death; for if the players had produced the drama after his death, they would have probably spoken of him (he being its sole author) in the terms of eulogy with which they accompanied the | his pains."* It is clear that the fable of performance of 'The Loyal Subject :' "We need not, noble gentlemen, to invite Attention, pre-instruct you who did write This worthy story, being confident Chaucer must have been treated in a different manner by Edwards than we find it treated in 'The Two Noble Kinsmen.' We have another record of a play on a similar subject. In Henslow's 'Diary' we have an The mirth join'd with grave matter and entry, under the date of September 1594, of intent To yield the hearers profit with delight, 66 'Palamon and Arsett' being acted four times. It is impossible to imagine that 'The Two Noble Kinsmen' is the same play. Here, then, was a subject adapted to a writer who worked in the spirit in which Shakspere almost uniformly worked. It was familiar to the people in their popular poetry; it was familiar to the stage. To arrive at a right Two Noble Kinsmen,' we must examine the play line by line in its relation to 'The Knight's Tale' of Chaucer. "The Knight's Tale' opens with the return to Athens of the "duke that highté Theseus" after he had The inferences, therefore, to be deduced from the prologue to 'The Two Noble Kins-judgment regarding the authorship of 'The men' (supposing Fletcher to be concerned in this drama),—that it was acted during his life-time, and that he either claimed the sole authorship, or suppressed all mention of the joint-authorship,-are to be weighed against the assertion of the title-page, that it | was written by the two memorable worthies of their time." We are thrown upon the examination of the internal evidence, then, without any material bias from the publication of the play, or its stage representation. Before the first builders-up of that wondrous edifice, the English drama, lay the whole world of classical and romantic fable, "where to choose." One of the earliest, and 66 conquer'd all the regne of Feminie, With muchel glory and great solempnitie, The Two Noble Kinsmen' opens with Theseus at Athens, in the company of Hipconsequently least skilful, of those work-polyta and her sister, proceeding to the cele men, Richard Edwards, went to the ancient stores for his 'Damon and Pythias,' and to Chaucer for his 'Palamon and Arcyte.' We learn from Wood's MSS. that when Elizabeth visited Oxford, in 1566, "at night the Queen heard the first part of an English play, named 'Palæmon, or Palamon Arcyte,' made by Mr. Richard Edwards, a gentleman of her chapel, acted with very great applause in Christ Church Hall." An accident happened at the beginning of the play by the falling of a stage, through which three persons were killed-a scholar of St. Mary's Hall, and two who were probably more missed, a college brewer and a cook. The mirth, however, went on, and "afterwards the actors performed their parts so well, that the Queen laughed heartily thereat, and gave the author of the play great thanks for bration of his marriage with the “dreaded Amazonian." Their bridal procession is interrupted by the "three queens whose sovereigns fell before The wrath of cruel Creon." In Chaucer the suppliants are a more numerous company. proaching Athens, As Theseus was ap "He was 'ware, as he cast his eye aside, Each after other, clad in clothés black; rapidly does the chivalrous duke resolve to avenge their wrongs :— "And right anon, withouten more abode, His banner he display'd, and forth he rode To Thebes ward, and all his host beside." The Queen and her sister remained at Athens. Out of this rapid narration, which occupies little more than a hundred lines in Chaucer, has the first scene of 'The Two Noble Kinsmen' been constructed. As The suredly, the reader who opens that scene for the first time will feel that he has lighted upon a work of no ordinary power. mere interruption of the bridal procession by the widowed queens the contrast of their black garments and their stained veils with the white robes and wheaten chaplets and hymeneal songs with which the play opens is a noble dramatic conception; but the poet, whoever he be, possesses that command of appropriate language which realizes all that the imagination can paint of a dramatic situation and movement; there is nothing shadowy or indistinct, no vague explanations, no trivial epithets. When the First Queen says 66 Speak 't in a woman's key, like such a woman But touch the ground for us no longer time Than a dove's motion, when the head's pluck'd off!" we feel that the poet not only wields his harmonious language with the decision of a practised artist, but exhibits the nicer touches which attest his knowledge of natural feelings, and employs images which, however strange and unfamiliar, are so true that we wonder they never occurred to us before, but at the same time so original that they appear to defy copying or imitation. The whole scene is full of the same remarkable word-painting. There is another quality which it exhibits, which is also peculiar to the highest order of minds-the ability to set us thinking-to excite that just and appropriate reflection which might arise of itself out of the exhibition of deep passions and painful struggles and resolute selfdenials, but which the true poet breathes into us without an effort, so as to give the key to our thoughts, but utterly avoiding those sententious moralizings which are sometimes deemed to be the province of tragedy. When the Queens commend the surrender which Theseus makes of his affections to a sense of duty, the poet gives us the philosophy of such heroism in a dozen words spoken by Theseus : "As we are men, Thus should we do; being sensually subdued, We lose our humane title." The first appearance, in Chaucer, of Palamon and Arcite is when they lie wounded on the battle-field of Thebes. In "The Two Noble Kinsmen' the necessary conduct of the story, as a drama, requires that the principal personages should be exhibited to us before they become absorbed in the main action. It is on such occasions as these that a dramatist of the highest order makes his characters reveal themselves, naturally and without an effort; and yet so distinctly that their individual identity is impressed upon the mind, so as to combine with the subsequent movement of the plot. The second scene of 'The Two Noble Kinsmen' appears to us somewhat deficient in this power. It is written with great energy; but the two friends are energetic alike: we do not precisely see which is the more excitable, the more daring, the more resolved, the more generous. We could change the names of the speakers without any material injury to the propriety of what they speak. Take, as an opposite example, Hermia and Helena, in A Midsummer Night's Dream,' where the differences of character scarcely required to be so nicely defined. And yet in description |