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Chaucer, in his "KNIGHT'S TALE" (from which Shakspere is supposed to have derived his Theseus and Hippolyta) has some beautiful lines in reference to the rites of May:-

"Thus passeth yere by yere, and day by day,
Till it fell ones, in a morne of May,
That Emelie, that fayrer was to sene
Than is the lilie upon his stalke grene,

And fresher than the May with floures newe
(For with the rose colour strof hire hewe;
I wot which was the finer of hem two),
Ere it was day, as she was wont to do,
She was arisen, and all redy dight,
For May wol have no slogardie a-night.
The seson pricketh every gentil herte,
And maketh him out of his slepe to starte,
And sayth, Arise, and do thine observance.'"

"And what poor duty cannot do,

Noble respect takes it in might, not merit." Act V., Scene 1. That is, what dutifulness tries to perform without ability, regardful generosity receives with complacency; estimating it not by the actual merit of the performance, but by what it might have been, had the abilities of the performers been equal to their zeal.

"Will it please you to see the epilogue, or to hear a Bergomask dance?"-Act V., Scene 1.

This is said to be a dance after the manner of the peasants of Bergomasco, a province in the state of Venice, who are ridiculed as being more clownish in their manners and dialect than any other people of Italy.

"I am sent with broom before,

To sweep the dust behind the door."

Act V., Scene 2. Cleanliness was always supposed to be necessary to invite the residence and favour of the fairies. Drayton says,

"These make our girls their sluttery rue,
By pinching them both black and blue;
And put a penny in their shoe,

The house for cleanly sweeping."

"To sweep the dust behind the door" is a common expression for to sweep the dust from behind the door; a necessary monition in large old houses; where the doors of halls and galleries are thrown backward and seldom shut.SINGER.

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Which by us shall blessed be."-Act V., Scene 2. The ceremony of blessing the bed was in old times used at all marriages. Sometimes, during the benediction, the married couple only sat on the bed. It is recorded that in France, on frequent occasions, the priest was improperly detained till midnight, whilst the wedding guests rioted in the luxuries of the table, and made use of language that was extremely offensive to the clergy, and injurious to the salvation of the parties. It was, therefore, o:dained, in the year 1577, that the ceremony of blessing the nuptial bed should for the future be performed in the day-time, or at least before supper, and in the presence of the bride and bridegroom, and of their nearest relations only.

The "MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM" is, I believe, altogether original, in one of the most beautiful conceptions that ever visited the mind of a poet-the fairy machinery. A few before Shakspere had dealt in a vulgar and clumsy manner with popular superstitions; but the sportive, beneficent,

invisible population of the air and earth, long since established in the creed of childhood, and of those simple as children, had never for a moment been blended with "human mortals" among the personages of the drama.

HALLAM.

In the "MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM" there flows a luxuriant vein of the boldest and most fantastical invention; -the most extraordinary combination of the most dissimilar ingredients, seems to have arisen without effort by some ingenious and lucky accident; and the colours are of such clear transparency, that we think that the whole of the variegated fabric may be blown away with a breath. The fairy world here described resembles those elegant pieces of arabesque, where little genii, with butterfly wings, rise half-embodied above the flower-cups. Twilight, moonshine, dew, and spring-perfumes, are the element of those tender spirits; they assist Nature in embroidering her carpet with green leaves, many-coloured flowers, and dazzling insects: in the human world, they merely sport in a childish and wayward manner with their beneficent or noxious influences. Their most violent rage dissolves in good-natured raillery; their passions, stripped of all earthly matter, are merely an ideal dream. To correspond with this, the loves of mortals are painted as a poetical enchantment, which, by a contrary enchantment, may be immediately suspended, and then renewed again.

The different parts of the plot; the wedding of Theseus, the disagreement of Oberon and Titania, the flight of the two pair of lovers, and the theatrical operations of the mechanics, are so lightly and happily interwoven, that they seem necessary to each other for the formation of a whole. Oberon is desirous of relieving the lovers from their perplexities, and greatly adds to them through the misapprehension of his servant, till he at last comes to the aid of their fruitless amorous pain, their inconstancy and jealousy, and restores fidelity to its old rights.

The extremes of fanciful and vulgar are united when the enchanted Titania awakes and falls in love with a coarse mechanic with an ass's head, who represents, or rather disThe droll wonder of figures, the part of a tragical lover. the transmutation of Bottom is merely the translation of a metaphor in its literal sense; but, in his behaviour during the tender homage of the Fairy Queen, we have a most amusing proof how much the consciousness of such a headdress heightens the effect of his usual folly.

Theseus and Hippolyta are, as it were, a splendid frame for the picture; they take no part in the acting, but appear with a stately pomp. The discourse of the hero and his Amazon, as they course through the forest with their noisy hunting train, works upon the imagination like the fresh breath of morning, before which the shapes of night disappear.-SCHLEGEL.

In "THE HANDEFULL OF PLEASANT DELITES" (1584), by Clement Robinson, there is a doleful tale of "PYRAMUS AND THISBE," well meriting the epithet of "very tragical mirth," although apparently written in serious sadness. It was possibly the immediate suggester of Shakspere's burlesque:

"A NEW SONNET OF PYRAMUS AND THISBE.
"You dames (I say) that climb the mount

Of Helicon,

Come on with me, and give account
What hath been done:

Come tell the chance, ye Muses all,
And doleful news,

Which on these lovers did befall,
Which I accuse.-

In Babylon, not long agone,

A noble prince did dwell, Whose daughter bright dimmed each one's sight, So far she did excel.

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O wretched wight!

Now art thou in woful case

For Thisbe bright.

O gods above! my faithful love
Shall never fail this need;

For this my breath, by fatal death,
Shall weave Atropos threed.'

Then from his sheath he drew his blade,
And to his heart

He thrust the point, and life did wade,
With painful smart.

Then Thisbe she from cabin came,
With pleasure great:

And to the Well apace she ran,

There for to treat,

And to discuss to Pyramus,

Of all her former fears;

And when slain she found him, truly,
She shed forth bitter tears.

When sorrow great that she had made,
She took in hand

The bloody knife, to end her life
By fatal hand.-

You ladies all, peruse and see The faithfulness,

How these two lovers did agree

To die in distress.

You Muses wail, and do not fail,
But still do you lament
These lovers twain, who with such pain
Did die so well content!"

Manifold are the opinions that have been advanced respecting the origin of the fairy mythology of our ancestors. The superstitions of the East and of the North, and of Greece and of Rome, have been resorted to in search of a clue which would lead to a consistent history of its rise and growth.

It appears safe to assume that the oriental genii in general, and the Dews and Peries of Persia in particular, are the remote prototypes of modern fairies. The doctrine of the existence of this peculiar race of spirits was imported into the north of Europe by the Scythians, and it forms a leading feature in the mythology of the Celts. Hence was derived the popular fairy system of our own country, which our ancestors modified by the mythology of the classics.

The Peries and Dews of the orientals were paralleled by the Scandinavian division of their genii, or diminutive supernatural beings (with which their imaginations so thickly peopled the earth), into bright or beneficent elves, and black or malignant dwarfs; the former beautiful, the latter hideous in their aspect. A similar division of the fairy tribe of this country was long made; but, by almost imperceptible degrees, the qualities of both species were ascribed to fairies generally. They were deemed intermediate between mankind and spirits; but still, as they partook decidedly of a spiritual nature, they were, like all other spirits, under the influence of the devil:-but their actions were more mischievous than demoniacal; more perplexing than malicious; more frolicsome than seriously injurious.

An air of peculiar lightness distinguishes the poet's treatment of this extremely fanciful subject, from his subsequent and bolder flights into the regions of the spiritual world. He rejected from the drama on which he engrafted it, everything calculated to detract from its playfulness, or to encumber it with seriousness; and, giving the rein to the brilliancy of youthful imagination, he scattered, from his superabundant wealth, the choicest flowers of fancy over the fairies' paths: his fairies move amidst the fragrance of enamelled meads, graceful, lovely, and enchanting.SKOTTOWE.

If it be asked, how we may best increase our chance of approximating to the great and beneficent intellect that has achieved this wondrous vision? the answer is,-by enlarging our sympathies. Sheer genius is not to be acquired by a wish or an effort; but the most moderate talent may be fructified by a diligent cultivation of benevolent impulses. By stirring out of ourselves, we become something more than ourselves; and by the time we have acquired (as we may) a tithe of Shakspere's spirit of sympathy with all that is great, genial, and beautiful, in the sister worlds of faucy and of fact, we shall at least become worthy sharers in the rich product of his "MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM," although we may never hope, dreaming or waking, to witch the world, and immortalise ourselves, by a similar display of poetic excellence.-O.

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LOVE'S

LABOUR'S

LOST

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INTRODUCTORY REMARKS

IF

Love's labour is apparently lost on the beauteous dames and sprightly courtiers of Navarre and France, poetic readers have still to be grateful for the many fine things that his inspiration has caused his votaries to utter. The play is not for those who see no merit but in broad and striking effects, for it really is deficient in dramatic interest; still it has an infinite variety of beauties; there is a rich vein of gold running through the lode, although the earthy mixture is greater in proportion than in most of the metal from the same prolific mine. The characters are numerous and well contrasted; the one thing wanting to them, and consequently to the play, is determined purpose. It is, however, pleasant to consort with a happy lot of Fortune's darlings, who seem to carve out penance for themselves simply to get rid of their superfluous leisure; and who have nothing to do throughout the long, delightful, summer day, but to amuse, baffle, laud, and depreciate each other, in blissful ignorance of time and business, vice and sorrow.

Biron and Rosaline have been often noted as the precursors of Benedick and Beatrice, and well deserve the compliment. The King and Princess, in their general courtesy and intellectual gifts, advance much more than conventional claim to the title of "Matchless Navarre," and the "Maid of grace and complete majesty." The scholastic enthusiasm of Holofernes and Nathaniel is not without its interest to those who, in the language of the Curate, have "learned to feed upon the delicacies of a book." The sentence in which this phrase occurs, rivals, in merit, his praise of the Schoolmaster's table-talk ;-an eulogium, which Johnson (an unexceptionable judge in such a case), calls, " a finished representation of colloquial excellence."

Costard is admirable throughout,-bating the occasional coarseness, which he shares with his betters in the scene. His mode of meeting the accusation of Armado, in the first Act, would have been worthy of Touchstone, Launcelot, or Ferto. Equally good is his overflowing delight in the witty impertinence of Moth; his exaltation, on successfully standing for "Pompion the Great," though "he knows not the degree of the worthy ;" and his triumphant compassion on the histrionic failure of the poor Curate: "He is a marvellous good neighbour, in sooth, and a very good bowler; but for Alexander, alas! you see how it is; a little o'er parted."

Among the finer passages of the play (albeit they abound beyond the power of enumeration), are Biron's enthusiastic praise of Rosaline; her description of him; his expostulation with the King and Courtiers, in the first Act; and his glowing laudation of love and women in the last. Dumain's exquisite Sonnet, "On a Day," must not be forgotten; nor the "Dialogue of the Owl and the Cuckoo;" words which, married to the exquisite music of Arne, contribute to form as auspicious a conjunction as ever was ratified at the altar of Apollo.

At what time the first edition of this play appeared is altogether uncertain; probably about 1590: it is, undoubtedly, one of Shakspere's earlier productions. The edition of 1598 has the following title: "A pleasant conceited comedie, called 'LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST.' As it was presented before her Highness this last Christmas. Newly corrected and augmented by W. Shakspere." The drama was, probably, on various accounts especially pleasing to Elizabeth. The voluntary, yet unwilling, maiden Queen-she who was so peevishly jealous of the marriage of her maids of honour-must have relished, intensely, the postponement of so many sexual unions "for a twelvemonth and a day," with a tolerable prospect of the matches failing altogether. The learning of the pedants must have been anything but caviare to the accomplished pupil of Ascham; while the grandiloquence of Armado would provoke a smile, both for herself and the author, from the lion-hearted woman who had so heroically defied alike the thunder and the machinations of the wily and redoubtable Philip.

"It is not unimportant (says Mr. Coleridge) to notice how strong a presumption the dictions and allusions of this play afford, that, though Shakspere's acquirements in the dead languages might not be such as we suppose consistent with a learned education, his habits had nevertheless been scholastic and those of a student."

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