"the poet's pen Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing A local habitation and a name, to such obvious and smile provoking common-place as, "Or, in the night, imagining some fear, How easy is a bush suppos'd a bear." I do not believe that the last two lines of the speech are genuine. Imagination "imagining some fear," cannot be Shakespeare's. The two preceding lines are doubtless his, and close the speech appropriately, with a clear and conclusive distinction between the apprehension and comprehension of excited imagination, the very subject of the remarks of Theseus. Where, indeed, in the whole range of metaphysical writing is the difference between the two acts so clearly stated and so forcibly illustrated! And would Shakespeare, after reaching the climax of his thought, fall into this needless common-place? Besides, what meaning has or" where it now stands? Apprehend some joy" and "comprehend some bringer of that joy," ring true; but "imagining some fear" and "bushes and bears" are poor counterfeit. I wonder that this has not been noticed. The two lines are, in my judgment, an interpolation by some player. That the original folio was partly printed from a copy which, whether Shakespeare's original manuscript or not, had been marked for stage use, is evident from the fact, that in some places the name of the performer appears in it, instead of that of the character; and it needs no proof that stage managers, and even actors, take and always have taken, the liberty of adding to, as well as subtracting from, the dramatist's work. On the title-pages of some of the plays in Bell's British Theatre, which are advertised as "regulated from the Prompt Bock," is this notice : "The Lines distinguished by inverted commas are omitted in the Representation; and those printed in Italics are the additions of the Theatre." The quarto editions of Shakespeare's plays were evidently printed from actors' parts; and, as we learn from the Stationer's address in the first folio of Beaumont and Fletcher's Works, "when private friends desired a copy [of their parts] they [the actors] transcribed what they acted." The many erasures in Mr. Collier's folio, and the alterations for the sake of rhyme, especially at the close of Scenes and Acts, put it beyond doubt that its mutilations, changes, and interpolations, are partly due to the license of the actors on a degenerating stage. "Lysander. The battle with the Centaurs, to be sung Theseus. We'll none of that: that have I told my love, Lys. "The riot of the tipsy Bachanals, Tearing the Thracian singer in their rage." Thes. That is an old device; and it was play'd When I from Thebes came last a conqueror. Lys. "The thrice three Muses mourning for the death Of learning, late deceas'd in beggary." Thes. That is some satire, keen and critical, Not sorting with a nuptial ceremony. Lys. "A tedious brief scene of young Pyramus, And his love Thisbe; very tragical mirth." Thes. Merry and tragical! Tedious and brief! Thus the original folio divides this passage, making Lysander read the schedule and Theseus comment. On the quasi authority of the quartos, the whole is given to The seus, by which nothing is gained in propriety or effect. It is surely more probable that Duke Theseus would have a schedule read to him, than that he would read it aloud himself; and this is the arrangement of the authentic copy. In the last reply of Theseus, the epithet "strange," applied to snow, is not only entirely inappropriate, but utterly meaningless; it is doubtless a printer's error for secthing. Mr. Collier's folio reads "hot ice and wondrous seething snow." My unknown correspondent in the lumber State does not agree with this opinion, and holds to strange." "Of course," he remarks, "the idea is, that the snow, to compare with the mirthful and tragical, and tedious and brief scene, and with the hot ice, must be a singular kind of snow -snow resembling almost any thing else than snow-perhaps black instead of white, or seething instead of frozensuch would be strange snow, indeed." I respect this clinging to the original text; but still I fail to see any consistent meaning in "strange." It is not in any way opposed to 66 snow;" and reason demands that it should be. Mirth and tragedy, tediousness and brevity, heat and ice, cannot find a counter-part in strangeness and snow. "Seething snow" seems plainly to me the author's phrase; and the more, that it perfects an otherwise imperfect line. "Pyr. Sweet moon, I thank thee for thy sunny beams; I thank thee, moon, for shining now so bright, For, by thy gracious, golden, glittering beams," &c. Thus the original, with an evident misprint in the second "beams," which was corrected in the second folio to streams. Mr. Knight suggests that we should read, “For by thy gracious, golden, glittering gleams.” Surely, who that remembers the following lines in the Prologue of the interlude, can doubt for a moment that gleams is the word? "Whereat, with blade, with bloody blameful blade, He bravely broach'd his boiling bloody breast; " If we change the original at all, a good emendation in the second folio must yield to a better from Mr. Knight ; for the second folio, with or without MS. emendations, has no authority. SCENE 2. "Obe. With this field-dew consecrate, Every fairy take his gait; And each several chamber bless, Through this palace with sweet peace; Ever shall in safety rest, And the owner of it blest." "Ever shall in safety rest," is neither sense nor English, ancient or modern. There is no nominative, expressed or understood. Pope read, "E'er shall it in safety rest;" but Warburton and Mr. Collier's folio in reading, "Ever shall it safely rest," deviate less, in fact, as little as possible, from the original, and obtain the same sense and a smoother line. MERCHANT OF VENICE. ACT I. SCENE 1. "Ant. I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano; A stage, where every man must play a part, And mine a sad one." I do not know that it has been before remarked, that to the dignity of Antonio's character there is added a tinge of moody, tender melancholy, which yet stops short of morbidness or affectation, and which adds much to the interest awakened in us by his generous friendship and the trying circumstances in which his noble kindness places him. This sadness, as well as the gentleness and open sincerity of his character, appears in the letter in which he announces his misfortune to Bassanio,-one of the finest instances of the pathos of simplicity that exists in literature. "Sweet Bassanio, my ships have all miscarried, my creditors grow cruel, my estate is very low, my bond to the Jew is forfeit; and since in paying it is impossible I should live, all debts are cleared between you and I, if I might but see you at my death. Notwithstanding, use your pleasure: if your love do not persuade you to come, let not my letter." No commentator has shown such an utter want of sympathy with the finest thoughts and the finest characters in |