eclipse all of them:-'For there is an upstart crow beautified with our feathers, that with his tiger's heart wrapt in a player's hide, supposes he is as well able to bombast out a blank verse as the best of you; and being an absolute Johannes Fac-totum, is, in his own conceit, the only Shake-scene in a country.' The punning allusion to Shakspeare is unmistakable: the expressions 'tiger's heart wrapt in a player's hide,' are a parody on the following line in Henry the Sixth : O tiger's heart wrapt in a woman's hide. The 'Groat's Worth of Wit' was published after Greene's death by a brother dramatist, Henry Chettle, who, in the preface to a subsequent work, thus apologizes for the allusion to Shakspeare. 'I am sorry,' he says, 'as if the original fault had been my fault, because myself have seen his demeanor no less civil than he excellent in the quality he professes. Beside, divers of worship have reported his uprightness of dealing, which argues his honesty, and his facetious grace in writing that approves his art.' This apology was published in 1593, and is the more valuable, because it does full justice to Shakspeare's moral worth, and civil deportment, and to his respectability as an actor and author. The following conclusion of Greene's 'Groat's Worth of Wit,' contains more pathos than all his plays combined. It is, indeed, a harrowing picture of genius debased by vice, and sorrowing in repentance : 'But now return I again to you three (Marlow, Lodge, and Peele), knowing my misery is to you no news: and let me heartily entreat you to be warned by my harms. Delight not, as I have done, in irreligious oaths; despise drunkenness, fly lust, abhor those epicures, whose loose life hath made religion loathsome to your ears; and when they soothe you with terms of mastership, remember Robert Greene (whom they have often flattered) perishes for want of comfort. Remember, gentlemen, your lives are like so many light tapers that are with care delivered to all of you to maintain; these, with wind-puffed wrath, may be extinguished, with drunkenness put out, with negligence let fall. The fire of my light is now at the last snuff. My hand is tired, and I forced to leave where I would begin; desirous that you should live though himself be dying. - ROBERT GREENE.' Greene died in September 1592, owing, it is said, to a surfeit of red herring and Rhenish wine! We shall conclude this melancholy picture with his sonnet on Content, and the Song of the Shepherdess. CONTENT. Sweet are the thoughts that savour of content: The homely house that harbours quiet rest, The mean, that 'grees with country music best, THE SONG OF THE SHEPHERDESS. Ah! what is love! It is a pretty thing, And sweeter too: For kings have cares that wait upon a crown, His flocks are folded; he comes home at night And merrier too: For kings bethink them what the state require, Ah then, ah then, If country loves such sweet desires gain He kisseth first, then sits as blithe to eat For kings have often fears when they sup, Ah then, ah then, If country loves such sweet desires gain, Upon his couch of straw he sleeps as sound More sounder too: For cares cause kings full oft their sleep to spill, Ah then, ah then, If country loves such sweet desires gain, Thus with his wife he spends the year as blithe As doth the king at every tide or syth, And blither too: For kings have wars and broils to take in hand, Ah then, ah then, If country loves such sweet desires gain, What lady would not love a shepherd swain? THOMAS LODGE was educated at Trinity College, Oxford, of which he became servitor in, 1573. From Oxford he removed to London, and entered Lincoln's Inn as a student of law; but if he ever followed the legal profession, it must have been for only a short time, as in 1584, he was connected with one of the London theatrical companies as an actor. He soon after retired to the continent, studied medicine, and took his doctor's degree at Avignon, in the south of France. In 1590, he first appeared as an author by the production of a novel under the title of Rosalind Ephues' Golden Legacy, in which he recommends the fantastic style of Lyly. From part of the story of 'Rosalind, Shakspeare constructed his 'As You Like It.' In 1594, Lodge wrote a historical play, the Wounds of Civil War, Lively set forth in the True Tragedies of Marius aud Sylla. The play, as a whole, is heavy and uninteresting, but the author had the good taste to adopt, as will appear from the following example, the blank verse for which Greene had already become so distinguished: Ay, but the milder passions show the man; The play 'A Looking-glass for London and England,' already alluded to in our notice of Greene, is directed to the defence of the stage. It applies the Scriptural story of Nineveh to the city of London, and amid drunken buffoonery and clownish mirth, contains some powerful satirical writing. Lodge also translated Josephus wrote a volume of Satires, and other poems, and a serious defence of the drama, in prose. In 1600, he visited the continent in company comp with Henry Savell, and on his return to London he merged the actor and dramatist in the physician, and soon became prosperous and wealthy. He died in London, of the plague, in 1625. In Lodge's 'Rosalind' there is a delightful spirit of romantic fancy, and a love of nature that marks the true poet; and some of his minor pieces, such as the following, are truly beautiful : ROSALIND'S MADRIGAL. Love in my bosom, like a bee, Doth suck his sweet; Now with his wings he plays with me, Within mine eyes he makes his nest, And yet he robs me of my rest: And if I sleep, then percheth he And makes his pillow of my knee, Strike I my lute, he tunes the string; He lends me every lovely thing, Yet cruel he my heart doth sting: Whist, wanton, still ye ? Else I with roses every day Will whip you hence, And bind you, when you long to play, For your offence; I'll shut mine eyes to keep you in, I'll make you fast it for your sin, I'll count your power not worth a pin; Alas! what hereby shall I win, If he gainsay me? What if I beat the wanton boy He will repay me with annoy, Then sit thou safely on my knee, And let thy bower my bosom be; Spare not, but play thee. BEAUTY. Like to the clear in highest sphere, Whether unfolded or in twines: Her cheeks are like the blushing cloud, That Phœbus' smiling looks doth grace. Her lips are like two budded roses, Her neck like to a stately tower, With orient pearl, with ruby red, Yet soft in touch, and sweet in view. The gods are wounded in her sight; And Love forsakes his heavenly fires, And at her eyes his brand doth light. 282 ANTHONY MUNDAY.-HENRY CHETTLE. [LECT. XII. ANTHONY MUNDAY's name frequently occurs among the dramatic authors of this period, but of his life very little is known. He appeared before the public as a dramatic writer as early as 1579, and was concerned in the production of fourteen plays; and such was the reputation to which he attained that Francis Meres, in 1598, calls him the 'best plotter' among the writers for the stage. One of his dramas, Sir John Oldcastle, was written in conjunction with Drayton and others, and was printed in 1600, with the name of Shakspeare on the title-page! The Death of Robert, Earl of Huntington, printed in 1601, was Munday's most popular play, and it is said he was assisted in it by Chettle. The pranks of Robin Hood and Maid Marian in merry Sherwood, are thus gayly set forth : Wind once more, jolly huntsmen, all your horns, ، HENRY CHETTLE is as little known as Munday. It is supposed by Collier that he had written for the stage before 1592, when he published Greene's posthumous work, 'A Groat's Worth of Wit.' He was a very prolific writer, and was engaged in the composition of no less than thirtyeight plays, during the six years that followed from 1597. Amongst his plays, the names of which have descended to us, is one on the subject of Cardinal Wolsey, which probably was the origin of Shakspeare's 'Henry the Eighth.' The best drama of this author, that we now possess, is a comedy called Patient Grissell, taken from the Italian of Boccaccio. The humble charms of the heroine are thus finely described : |