spoken by the hero, is a still happier illustration of the contrivances used by Marlow to introduce variety into his pauses: it opens strikingly by a broken verse— 'I am betrayed ! "Tis not five hundred crowns that I esteem ; I am not mov'd at that: this angers me, That he who knows I love him as myself We cannot sympathise with Barabas, because he is a mere monster, and his daughter is, in the first instance, too instrumental in her father's bloody purposes, and afterwards too insignificant, to excite compassion in her death. The whole structure of the tragedy is confused, exaggerated, and improbable; but we ought, in fairness to the genius of the author, to recollect how imperfectly and confusedly the manuscripts of plays were at that date usually made up. Marlow and Nash were not acquainted with each other in 1587, and Greene was at that date upon bad terms with the former, of whom he appears to have been not a little envious. It is likely that, before the death of Greene, Nash and Marlow, by similarity of pursuits as dramatic authors, mutual admiration of each other's talents, and a common love of good fellowship, were brought together, and the result was a play, which they wrote in conjunction, under the title of The Tragedy of Dido, Queen of Carthage. We shall speak of this production, and of the probable share of each author in it, when we criticise the works of Nash, If not the last, certainly one of the most perfect of Marlow's dramatic productions is his historical play of The troublesome Reign and lamentable Death of Edward the Second, which was entered on the books of the Stationers' Company in the month following that of the death of its author. Although it preceded the dramas of Shakespeare, founded upon events detailed in our Chronicles, it is similar to them in point of construction, and like them is in itself a vast improvement upon such performances as The famous Victories of Henry the Fifth, and the old King John: whether any play upon the story of Edward II was in existence before Marlow wrote his tragedy, by which he might possibly be aided, is not known Here the author's versification is exhibited in its greatest excellence, and successful experiments are made in nearly all those improvements for which Shakespeare has generally had exclusive credit. The character of Richard II seems modelled, in no slight degree, upon that of Edward II; and without attempting a parallel, the reader will be able, as we proceed, to make at least a partial comparison: in point of versification, Shakespeare's performance presents no variety of rhythm that may not be found in the work of Marlow. The judicious use of alexandrines, for the purpose of relieving the monotony of passages, has been before remarked, and many instances of the same kind may be gathered from his Edward the Second. We will only quote a few of them. 'But, for we know thou art a noble gentleman.’ 'Thou com'st from Mortimer and his accomplices.' It can hardly fail to be observed, that in these examples the pause is varied. Spenser, in his Fairy Queen, commonly makes the cæsura fall after the sixth-syllable, which, strictly speaking, is the case with only the last line of those that pre1 Marlow was killed in June 1593, and his Edward II was entered in July of that year, but not published until 1598. cede: as Marlow's was to be spoken language, he well knew that to observe this regularity of pause would have an injurious effect. Malone and others have laid great stress upon the force and variety given to the versification of Shakespeare by the insertion of redundant syllables: lines of this description, the result of design and not of carelessness, are so numerous in Edward the Second, that it would be almost idle to make any selection, were not redundant syllables sometimes employed in it so happily, that we cannot refrain from subjoining two or three specimens, in connexion with other lines which are regularly formed. 'Away! poor Gaveston, that has no friend but me ; What care I, though the Earls begirt us round ?' 'Now get thee to thy lords, And tell them I will come to chastise them 'These hands were never stain'd with innocent blood, These are proofs of the truth of Tyrwhitt's remark, that in English a redundant syllable may be admitted into any part of the verse. In the first of the above examples, the redundant syllable seems used chiefly for the sake of lightening the weight of the rather formal lines which succeed it: in the second, it adds greatly to the force and impetuosity of the sentiment expressed; and in the last, we see how much the beauty of the line is increased by the employment of a dactyl instead of a trochee: 'innocent' may be pronounced as a dissyllable, but to the manifest detriment of the metre. Malone mentions (in a note to Henry VI, Part 3, act i, scene i), that neither', 'either', 'whether', etc., are used by Shakespeare as monosyllables, as if they had been sounded as dissyllables by the poets who preceded him; but he had this peculiarity at least in common with, if he did not derive it from, Marlow, as the following lines will sufficiently show. 'Whither goes my lord of Coventry so fast?' 'Thither shall your honour go, and so, farewell.' Whether Shakespeare were or were not indebted to Marlow for this and other improvements, it is certain that Marlow so far deserves the name of an inventor; because, before his time, this mode of producing an agreeable and enlivening change in the run of dramatic blank-verse was, we think, unknown. In all these cases the line, properly spoken, occupies no more time than if it had been composed strictly of ten syllables. In not a few instances, we find that Marlow's lines have only nine syllables; and such is sometimes the case with Shakespeare's most mature compositions: it is at least doubtful, whether both poets did not purposely leave them thus defective; and it will generally be found, that in such lines there is some one word necessarily so emphatic, that the delivery of it requires the same time as if the line had been regulated by the most patient finger-counting versifier. Marlow, and Shakespeare after him, wrote by the unerring guidance of a correct ear, and not by dissecting the number of syllables: the latter may be a method of composing measure, but not of writing poetry. The use of hemistichs and imperfect verses, no matter in what part of a speech, was usually the effect of design and not of negligence; and here also Marlow set the example which was followed with alacrity by Shakespeare. This enquiry into the versification of Marlow may be to the full as tedious as instructive; but it was necessary, in order to put the matter on its true footing, and to establish the unquestionable obligations of dramatic poetry to the first and great improver of blank-verse. We subjoin two passages from Edward the Second, which we consider striking proofs of his skill in the management of our language, for the purpose of the drama in particular, and which possess at once the three great requisites of richness, harmony, and variety. The first is marked according to the value and weight of the syllables, as denoted by the accent and meaning of the words. 'Gaveston.-Oh, treacherous Warwick, thūs to wrōng thy friend! James.—I sẽe it is your life thèse arms pŭrsūe. Gav.-Weaponless mūst I fall, ănd die în bānds? Oh, must this day bě period of my life, Centre of all my bliss! And yě bě mẽn, Warwick. My lord of Pembroke's men, Strive you no longer-I will have that Gaveston. And wrong our lord, your hōnoŭrăblě friend, We'll make quick work. Commend mě to your master, Cōme, let thy shadow pārley with king Edward. In this quotation no one line reads precisely like another; and it will be remarked, that the agreeable diversity is importantly assisted by the free use of trochees, instead of monosyllables, at the close of several verses. Trochees were known, it is true, long before Marlow wrote, and they are |