Hood, Garagantua, Gerilion, and a thousand such exquisite monuments as these, no doubt but they breathe in my breath and down." up The Merry Devil of Edmonton which has been sometimes attributed to Shakespear, is assuredly not unworthy of him. It is more likely, however, both from the style and subject-matter to have been Heywood's than any other person's. It is perhaps the first example of sentimental comedy we have-romantic, sweet, tender, it expresses the feelings of honour, of love, and friendship in their utmost delicacy, enthusiasm, and purity. The names alone, Raymond Mounchersey, Frank Jerningham, Clare, Millisent, "sound silver sweet like lovers' tongues by night." It sets out with a sort of story of Doctor Faustus, but this is dropt as jarring on the tender chords of the rest of the piece. The wit of the Merry Devil of Edmonton is as genuine as the poetry. Mine Host of the George is as good a fellow as Boniface, and the deer-stealing scenes in the forest between him, Sir John the curate, Smug the smith, and Banks the miller, are very honest knaveries," as Sir Hugh Evans has it. The air is delicate, and the deer, shot by their cross-bows, fall without a groan! Frank Jerningham says to Clare, "The way lies right: hark, the clock strikes at Enfield: what's the hour? Young Clare. Ten, the bell says. Jern. It was but eight when we set out from Cheston: Sir John and his sexton are at their ale to-night, the clock runs at random. Y. Clare. Nay, as sure as thou livest, the villainous vicar is abroad in the chase. The priest steals more venison than half the country. Jern. Millisent, how dost thou ? Mil. Sir, very well. I would to God we were at Brian's lodge." A volume might be written to prove this last answer Shakespear's, in which the tongue says one thing in one line, and the heart contradicts it in the next; but there were other writers living in the time of Shakespear, who knew these subtle windings of the passions besides him,though none so well as he! The Pinner of Wakefield, or George a Green, is a pleasant interlude, of an early date, and the author unknown, in which kings and coblers, outlaws and maid Marians are "hail-fellow well met," and in which the features of the antique world are made smiling and amiable enough. Jenkin, George a Greene's servant, is a notorious wag. Here is one of his pretended pranks. "Jenkin. This fellow comes to me, And takes me by the bosom: you slave, He takes no cold in his feet. No, marry shall he, Sir, quoth I. George. Thou clown, did'st thou set his horse upon thy cloak? Jenk. Aye, but mark how I served him. Madge and he was no sooner gone down into the ditch But I plucked out my knife, cut four holes in my cloak, and made his horse stand on the bare ground." The first part of Jeronymo is an indifferent piece of work, and the second, or the Spanish Tragedy by Kyd, is like unto it, except the interpolations idly said to have been added by Ben Jonson, relating to Jeronymo's phrensy" which have all the melancholy madness of poetry, if not the inspiration." LECTURE VI. ON MISCELLANEOUS POEMS, F. BEAUMONT, P. FLETCHER, DRAYTON, DANIEL, &c. SIR P.SIDNEY'S ARCADIA, AND OTHER WORKS. I SHALL, in the present Lecture, attempt to give some idea of the lighter productions of the Muse in the period before us, in order to shew that grace and elegance are not confined entirely to later times, and shall conclude with some remarks on Sir Philip Sidney's Arcadia. I have already made mention of the lyrical pieces of Beaumont and Fletcher. It appears from his poems, that many of these were composed by Francis Beaumont, particularly the very beautiful ones in the tragedy of the False One, the Praise of Love in that of Valentinian, and another in the Nice Valour or Passionate Madman, an Address to Melancholy, which is the perfection of this kind of writing. "Hence, all you vain delights; As short as are the nights Wherein you spend your folly: There's nought in this life sweet, Welcome folded arms and fixed eyes, Then stretch our bones in a still, gloomy valley; It has been supposed (and not without every appearance of good reason) that this pensive strain," most musical, most melancholy," gave the first suggestion of the spirited introduction to Milton's Il Penseroso. "Hence, vain deluding joys, The brood of folly without father bred! Whose saintly visage is too bright To hit the sense of human sight, &c." The same writer thus moralises on the life of |