rings but her marriage one, which was of plain gold. She appeared to be a sensible woman, very affable and courteous to all, particularly to us, (the lieutenants of the spots in their true places, they ought not to forget that the ace, which represents the sovereignty of the people, is ever at hand to break in upon ship,) whose names she noted down in her them,-and if once they are swept from the board, the people ought as little to forget that their own sovereignty vanishes at the same moment, and that room is only then left for the knave, the deuce, and all, who invariably come into play. A great deal of political wisdom is to be learned from the game of whist, -but both kings and subjects are apt too often to play their cards carelessly, and they may, perhaps, be doing so at present. It is not long, indeed, since many of the former had little else to do in reality, when they were out upon their travels,-and it may be of use to our Royal readers just to recall to them that period. The mirror of the troubled past ought not immediately to be dashed in pieces upon the ground, and the more flattering present be all that is contemplated. Our good friend, Lord Nelson's first lieutenant, (since Mr Punctum will have it so,) has an anecdote in point, which we shall proceed to give them. It will show them, too, that, if the worst should come to the worst, they may not be very uncomfortable after all. "September 1799.-About the beginning of this month, the King of Sardinia having applied to Lord Nelson for a ship of war to carry him and his family from Sardinia to Leghorn, his Lordship sent his own ship, the Foudroyant. We arrived at Cagliari Bay on the 10th, and immediately began to make the necessary arrangements for accommodation of the royal family and suite, and for this purpose the captain and officers gave up their cabins. A few days before the family embarked, the King came off to see the Foudroyant. On his arrival on the quarter-deck, he looked around him with evident astonishment on seeing such a wonderfully fine ship, and in the French language he exclaimed, "Une palais, une palais !" His Majesty Charles Emanuel IV. driven by the French from all his continental dominions, had, with his family, fled for refuge to this is land. He seemed to be an easy good-tempered man, very little taken up with the pomp of royalty; and his Queen, Maria Clotilda Adelaide Xaviere, sister to Louis XVI. of France, seemed equally divested of pride. Ever since the cruel murder of her brother, she had laid aside all jewels and ornaments of royalty, was constantly dressed in deep mourning, and wore no pocket-book. She bore her misfortunes with great apparent fortitude and resignation, though her countenance seemed worn with sorrow. Their Majesties, notwithstanding all their great trials and losses, appeared to enjoy a supreme degree of happiness in themselves, which nothing could rob them of. As an instance of this, I may mention, that, one forenoon, the wea ther being fine, their Majesties being seated each in a chair on the quarter-deck, the Queen, taking the King by the hand, said, misfortunes, here we are just as happy in Well, my dear, notwithstanding all our ourselves as on the first day of our married state. "We sailed from Cagliari Bay on the 18th of September, and, while the Royal family was on board, the royal standard of Sardinia was hoisted at the maintop-gallant mast-head. We had a very pleasant passage, and on the 22d, in the morning, arrived at Leghorn Road, and soon after the quarter-deck was nearly covered with landed their Sardinian Majesties. While trunks and baggage, the barge getting ready for their reception, and the King walking about, the Queen came out of the cabin, and very composedly seated herself on a trunk. This immediately caught the eye of the King, who smiled, and privately pointed out to us the humble seat the Queen had chosen. I may mention, as another instance of the King's condescending manners, that, one day, I think, before we sailed from Sardinia, while I was walking the quarter-deck, he came up to me, and, putting his arm under mine, requested me to go with him to see the main-deck and galley, (the place where all the provi sions are cooked.) I immediately complied, but felt a little abashed at his conti nuing to keep hold of my arm, which I gently inclined to withdraw, but he would not part with it till we again returned to the quarter-deck. The Queen wore nothing that could distinguish her from the wife of a private gentleman, and his Majesty wore a suit of black, with a star embroidered on the left breast of the coat. Yet there is not in all Europe a more strictly ceremonious court than that of Turin. On coming on board and going out of the ship, their Majesties were saluted with twenty-one guns. On going away, the Queen requested that we would not fire till she had got a good distance from the ship. The French having been driven from Turin, it was the intention of their Majesties to proceed for their capital from Leghorn; but, on reaching Florence, they found that the French army had re-entered Turin-so all their hopes were again blasted. The King presented Captain Thomas Hardy of the Foudroyant with a gold snuffbox, and also sent one to Lord Nelson, having his picture on the lid set in diamonds; and to the ship's company he distributed a small sum of money." Nothing, in truth, is more exemplary than the cheerful manner in which, during the overthrow of their power, so many royal personages around us submitted to the change of their fortunes. The Queen of Sardinia sitting good humouredly on her trunk is quite delightful, yet this is not a solitary instance. Even Bonaparte seems to have caught the semblance at least of that kingly fortitude, a virtue, however, which we are quite willing to leave him, and which we earnestly pray (still more for our own sakes than theirs) may not again be speedily required among the legitimate princes of Europe. They have shewn, indeed, that they can be much happier and more amiable, when they are no longer governors, than the people ever are when they are no longer governed. After our memento to kings, we shall close with one to subjects, from the same curious journal. Our officer had been visiting some of the beautiful environs of Naples, when, on his return to the city, he says,— "We were met by a crowd of savages carrying long poles, on which were fixed the hearts of human victims. This mob was composed of the ferocious Calabreze, and part of that army with which Cardinal Ruffi had driven the French and the Neapolitan republicans within the walls of Naples. On our entering Toledo Street, the crowd were surrounding a large fire, in which they were burning the bodies of five men in military dresses. A little farther on, a crowd passed us with great shouts, preceded by a man bearing a sword, on the point of which was carried the hand of a man cut off by the wrist. And in the street opposite the gate of Castel Nuova was a low fire, in which were the remains of a man, whose head they had separated from the body, cut off the nose and lips, and were kicking it about with their feet like a ball. We were horror-struck with such a spectacle, and lost no time in getting on board, to free ourselves from the company of such tygers in human shape. These kind of scenes continued about a week, until such time as the troops and marine battalion un der Sir Thomas Trowbridge returned from the siege of Capua, when order was restor VOL. V. Man wanders in madness through life's The Scythian comes on in the wrath of his And the Persian submits, and is numbered a slave; Desires ever raging, and ever contending, Thus wage, in his suffering bosom, their fight, And the cries of fierce strife, and her furies attending, Still banish the Graces, the guardians of Right. But woman, with softer entreaties, compelling, Can extinguish the torches of anger and strife, But woman meanwhile, in her fair-bloom- The sparks of resentment rejoicing in quel ing bower, Looks after her rover with sorrow and shame, ling, She gives peace to the hostile, and smoothness to life; And plucks from each varying moment its. And the social circle with loveliness blessing, flower, Content with a truer and homelier fame; More rich than proud man in the mind's sacred treasure, Her knowledge less shackled by changing desire, She draws from an holier fountain of plea sure, She makes the proud foes, who once met in the fray, Join in friendly embrace, and but vie in caressing Her exquisite form, ere it passes away. December 2, 1819. R. L. P. And strikes the gold chords of a magical ON THE ENGLISH DRAMATIC WRITERS lyre. WHO PRECEDED SHAKESPEARE. No. VI. MR EDITOR, So long an interval has unavoidably elapsed between my last article and my present, that I am afraid some of your readers may have forgotten the precise object I had in view, and the manner in which I have hitherto accomplished it. A few words in explanation may therefore be necessary. It is the general notion,—a notion produced by the assertions of critics and historians who have written on the rise and progress of the English stage, that Shakespeare created the Romantic Drama, or that drama which, to use the words of T. Warton, "defies the bondage of the ancients," and sets at nought those unities, than suffer the violation of which Sir R. Steele asserts, small critics would rather endure a breach of the whole Decalogue. The learned author of the History of English Poetry was one of the first to promulgate the opinion that Shakespeare introduced a totally new species of dramatic poetry; that his precursors had submitted to "the bondage of the ancients," but that his followers imi tated his example and became disciples in his new school. Mr Campbell in his "Specimens of English Poetry," was the last unconsciously to fall into this error, though we need not wonder that Schlegel, a foreigner, who just preceded him, should take it for granted that what he saw asserted by many native commentators as a mere matter of fact, was established on sufficient authority. Yet this is an error, and a very gross error: Shakespeare no more created our romantic drama than he created the blank-verse usually employed in it. I have taken it for granted, for reasons stated in my first article, that he did not begin to write for the stage until 1593, when" the first heir of his invention," Venus and Adonis, was published. Now, several dramatic writers of great celebrity, whose works are extant, were actually dead by that date! Greene and Marlowe, there is no question, were no more, and probably Peele, one of whose productions I have taken as the main subject of the present article. It is singular that there is not a single play written by either of those I have referred to (independent of such as were penned by Kyd, Lodge, Nash, &c.) which does not belong in every respect to what is called the Romantic Drama. To say, therefore, that Shakespeare created our romantic drama, is to assert what is capable of the most direct contradiction: it has only not hitherto been contradicted, because attention has not been sufficiently directed to a point which must be acknowledged to be of the first importance with relation to the originality of Shakespeare, and because the means of contradiction, from the extreme scarceness of some of the productions of the poets I have named, were very difficult to be obtained. I admit the great superiority of Shakespeare as a poet, though he followed and had to compete with great poets; I only deny his claim as an inventor and a creator of a species of theatrical entertainment not before known. Who was in truth, the inventor and creator of the romantic drama, or whether it was not of gradual and almost imperceptible growth, is a question that cannot now be easily decided: Greene, Marlowe, and Peele, are probably the earliest writers of it, but which had the honour of the precedence we have no adequate means of determining. In the Edinburgh Magazine for August last, I gave a tolerably full account of, and some interesting extracts from, a most rare play by Robert Greene, who died as early as 1592; and I there shewed certain resemblances to Shakespeare's Henry VIII. which proved that our greatest dramatist had, at least, seen Greene's James IV. of Scotland. That is a romantic drama in every sense of the word, and George Peele's Edward I. belongs indisputably to the same class: if possible it is even more irregular in its construction. This play I have chosen for the present article. It was printed as early as 1593, the date when Shakespeare began to write for the stage, and had been acted, no doubt, some years before. The life of Peele, as far as the particulars could be collected, will be found in the Biographia Dramatica, and elsewhere: it will be sufficient here to say, that he took his degree of Master of Arts at Oxford as early as 1579, and most likely soon afterwards removing to London, commenced author, and was appointed the city poet: in that capacity he wrote several pageants. His earliest printed dramatic production, The Arraignment of Paris, is dated in 1584: it is a pastoral, played before Queen Elizabeth, and, although not strictly to the point, I cannot refrain from quoting the few concluding lines, not merely because a short specimen of so rare a piece may be acceptable, but on account of the ridiculous and most exaggerated compliment it contains to the "maiden queen,' who is represented as bearing away the palm of beauty from Juno, Minerva, and Venus. Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos, first deliver to the queen (who seems to have sat in state to receive them) their several properties, the distaff, spindle, and knife: Diana then steps forward as a sort of arbitress, and thus addresses Elizabeth. "And loe, beside this rare solemnitie And sacrifice, these dames are wont to do, A favour far in deed contrarie kinde Bequeathed is vnto thy worthynes; She deliuereth the ball of golde to the Queenes owne hands.” "This prize from heauen and heauenly goddesses: Accept it then, thy due by Dian's dome, Prize of the wisdome, beautie, and the state That best becomes thy peereles excellencie Ven. So fayre Eliza, Venus doth resigne To yelde to thee her title in the prize. of to thee long before, is clear, from the entry of it on the stationers' books in the year 1597. This is one of the spurious productions attributed to Shakespeare. Steevens thinks it not impossible that Pie-board was meant for Peele; but he could not have read For wisdome, princely state, and peere- the comedy and the pamphlet, or he lesse beautie. Omnes simul. Epilogus. Viue diu fælix votis hominumque Deúmque, Corpore, mente, libro, doctissima, candida, casta." It is difficult, with our present manners, to imagine how any woman, let her personal vanity be what it might, could sit still and receive this odious adulation. The performance is rather pedantic, perhaps, to accommodate the taste of her majesty, and one song in Latin, and another in Italian, are inserted in the course of it. Peele must at this time have been extremely popular, and, in all probability, wrote many other pieces, dramatic and undramatic, that have not descended to us. Four plays and some pageants are all his dramatic works that remain. Soon after his death, the date of which is not precisely settled, a pamphlet was printed, which at least proves his notoriety, called, "The merrie conceited Iests of George Peele, Gentleman, sometimes Stvdent in Oxford. Wherein is shewed the course of his Life, how he liued: a man very well knowne in the City of London, and elsewhere." There are several editions of this tract, some without date; but the last I have seen is in 1627, so that, though he was certainly not living in 1598, his memory long survived. This book was not much to his credit, for it contains tricks and impositions, for the sake of gaining a livelihood, that, in our time, would have subjected poor Peele to transportation as a swindler. It is a singular fact, also tending materially to the same conclusion, that the comedy of The Puritan, or the Widow of Watling Street, is mainly founded on incidents contained in the above pamphlet, the hero being called George Pie-board, which, of course, means Peele, a pieboard being only another name for a baker's peel. The first known edition of this play is of 1607; but that it was written, and doubtless acted, would have found the internal evidence most decisive. But it is time to examine the historical play of Edward 1. by this author. The title is long, and the bet ter worth giving at length, because it has been mistaken by Anthony Wood for three distinct pieces. It is this: "The Famous Chronicle of King Edward the first, sirnamed Edward Longshankes, with his returne from the holy land. Also the Life of Llevellen rebell in Wales. Lastly the sinking of Queene Elinor, who suncke at Charing Crosse and rose againe at Potters-hith, now named Queenhith. London. Printed by Abell Ieffes," &c. 1593. The va rious incidents noticed in the title are introduced into the body, and it follows that the piece must be exceedingly irregular. Not a single unity is observed; time, place, and action are set at defiance; and the sole object of the author seems to have been to entertain the audience with as much bustle and business as he could crowd into the compass of two or three hours. Indeed, we may fairly object that so much is done, that too lit tle is said; or, in other words, that the action interferes with the poetry. It is unquestionably one of the very earliest English historical plays in our language, and merits, therefore, particular attention. It is not divided into acts or scenes, but opens in the fol lowing imposing manner: Enter Gilbart de Clare, Earle of Glocester, with the Earle of Sussex, Mor timer, the Earle of March, Dauid Lluellen's brother, waiting on Helipor the Queene mother. The Queene Mother. My L. Lieutenant of Glocester, and L. Martimer; eyes, To do you honour in your Soueraigne's way, |