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fortune, to mingle two the most diuerse things that can bee, feare, and rashnesse; rashnesse in the enterprize, and feare of the successe. For, when we valew the places your H.H. sustaine, we cannot but know their dignity greater, then to descend to the reading of these trifles: and, while we name them trifles, we haue depriu'd our selues of the defence of our Dedication. But since your L. L. have beene pleas'd to thinke these trifles some-thing, heeretofore; and have prosequuted both them, and their Author liuing, with so much fauour: we hope, that (they out liuing him, and he not having the fate, common with some, to be exequutor to his owne writings) you will vse the like indulgence toward them, you haue done vnto their parent. There is a great difference, whether any booke choose his Patrones, or finde them: This hath done both. For, so much were your L. L. likings of the seuerall parts, when they were acted, as before they were published, the Volume ask'd to be yours. We have but collected them, and done an office to the dead, to procure his Orphanes, Guardians; without ambition either of selfe-profit, or fame: onely to keepe the memory of so worthy a Friend, and Fellow aliue, as was our SHAKESPEARE, by humble offer of his playes, to your most noble patronage. Wherein, as we haue iustly obserued, no man to come neere your L. L. but with a kind of religious addresse; it hath bin the height of our care, who are the Presenters, to make the present worthy of yovr H. H. by the perfection. But, there we must also craue our abilities to be considerd, my Lords. We cannot go beyond our owne powers. Country hands reach foorth milke, creame, fruites, or what they baue: and many Nations (we haue heard) that had not gummes and incense, obtained their requests with a leauened Cake. It was no fault to approch their Gods, by what meanes they could: and the most, though meanest, of things are made more precious, when they are dedicated to Temples. In that name therefore, we must humbly consecrate to your H. H. these remaines of your seruant SHAKESPEARE; that what delight is in them, may be euer your L. L. the reputation his, & the faults ours, if any be committed, by a payre so carefull to shew their gratitude both to the liuing, and the dead, as is

Your Lordshippes most bounden,

IоHN HEMINGE.
HENRY CONDELL.

TO THE GREAT VARIETY OF READERS',

From the most able, to him that can but spell: There you are number'd. We had rather you were weighd. Especially, when the fate of all Bookes depends vpon your capacities and not of your heads alone, but of your purses. Well! It is now publique, and you wilstand for your priviledges wee know: to read, and censure. Do so, but buy it first. That doth best commend a Booke, the Stationer saies. Then, how odde soeuer your braines be, or your wisedomes, make your licence the same, and spare not. Iudge your sixe-pen'orth, your shillings worth, your fiue shillings worth at a time, or higher, so as you rise to the iust rates, and welcome. But, whatever you do, Buy. Censure will not driue a Trade, or make the Iacke go. And though you be a Magistrate of wit, and sit on the Stage at Black-Friers, or the Cock-pit, to arraigne Playes dailie, know, these Playes haue had their triall alreadie, and stood out all Appeales; and do now come forth quitted rather by a Decree of Court, then any purchas'd Letters of commendation.

It had bene a thing, we confesse, worthie to haue bene wished, that the Author himselfe had liu'd to haue set forth, and ouerseen his owne writings; But since it hath bin ordain'd otherwise, and he by death departed from that right, we pray you doe not envie his Friends, the office of their care, and paine, to have collected and publish'd them; and so to haue publish'd them, as where (before) you were abus'd with divers stolne, and surreptitious copies, maimed, and deformed by the frauds and stealthes of iniurious impostors, that expos'd them: even those, are now offer'd to your view cur'd, and perfect of their limbes; and all the rest, absolute in their numbers, as he conceiued the: Who, as he was a happie imitator of Nature, was a most gentle expresser of it. His mind and hand went together: And what he thought, he vttered with that easinesse, that wee haue scarse receiued from him a blot in his papers. But it is not our prouince, who onely gather his works, and give them you, to praise him. It is yours that reade him. And there we hope, to your diuers capacities, you will finde enough, both to draw, and hold you: for his wit can no more lie hid, then it could be lost. Reade him, therefore; and againe, and againe: And if then you doe not like him, surely you are in some manifest danger, not to vnderstand him. And so we

To the great variety of readers,] This address also precedes the folios of 1632, 1664, and 1685. Malɔne and others have conjectured that it was written by Ben Jonson, and it is certainly much in his style.

leaue you to other of his Friends, whom if you need, can bee your guides: if you neede them not, you can leade your selues, and others. And such Readers we wish him.

IоHN HEMINGE.
HENRIE CONDELL.

THE WORKES OF WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE,

Containing all his Comedies, Histories, and Tragedies: Truely set forth, according to their first Originall‘.

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This heading precedes the list of the Actors in the folio of 1623, and in the three subsequent editions in the same form: we spell the names precisely as they stand in the first folio. In 1846 the Shakespeare Society published “Memoirs " of all these performers, including what Malone and Chalmers had collected, and much information derived from Parish Registers and other sources, to which they had not access.

COMMENDATORY VERSES,

PREFIXED TO THE FOLIO OF 1623.

To the Memory of the deceased Author, Master William
Shakespeare.

Shake-speare, at length thy pious fellows give
The world thy works; thy works, by which outlive
Thy tomb thy name must: when that stone is rent,
And time dissolves thy Stratford monument,
Here we alive shall view thee still: this book,
When brass and marble fade, shall make thee look
Fresh to all ages; when posterity

Shall loath what's new, think all is prodigy
That is not Shake-speare's, every line, each verse,
Here shall revive, redeem thee from thy herse.
Nor fire, nor cankering age, as Naso said

Of his, thy wit-fraught book shall once invade:
Nor shall I e'er believe or think thee dead,
(Though miss'd) until our bankrout stage be sped
(Impossible) with some new strain t' out-do

Passions of Juliet, and her Romeo ;

Or till I hear a scene more nobly take,

Than when thy half-sword parleying Romans spake ':

1 Than when thy half-sword parleying Romans spake :] Leonard Digges prefixed a long copy of verses to the edition of Shakespeare's Poems in 1640, 8vo, in which he makes this passage, referring to "Julius Cæsar," more distinct; he also there speaks of the audiences Shakespeare's plays at that time drew, in comparison with Ben Jonson's. This is the only part of his production worth adding in a note.

"So have I seen, when Cæsar would appear,
And on the stage at half-sword parley were
Brutus and Cassius, O, how the audience

Were ravish'd! with what wonder they went thence!
When, some new day, they would not brook a line

Of tedious, though well-labour'd, Catiline;

Till these, till any of thy volume's rest,

Shall with more fire, more feeling, be express'd,
Be sure, our Shake-speare, thou canst never die,
But, crown'd with laurel, live eternally.

To the Memory of M. W. Shake-speare.

L. DIGGES.

We wonder'd, Shake-speare, that thou went'st so soon
From the world's stage to the grave's tiring-room:
We thought thee dead; but this thy printed worth
Tells thy spectators, that thou went'st but forth
To enter with applause. An actor's art
Can die, and live to act a second part:
That's but an exit of mortality,

This a re-entrance to a plaudite.

I. M.'

To the Memory of my beloved, the Author, Mr. William Shakespeare, and what he hath left us.

To draw no envy, Shakespeare, on thy name,
Am I thus ample to thy book, and fame;
While I confess thy writings to be such,
As neither man, nor muse, can praise too much ;
'Tis true, and all men's suffrage; but these ways
Were not the paths I meant unto thy praise:
For seeliest ignorance on these may light,
Which, when it sounds at best, but echoes right;
Or blind affection, which doth ne'er advance
The truth, but gropes, and urgeth all by chance;

Sejanus too, was irksome: they priz'd more
'Honest' Iago, or the jealous Moor.

And though the Fox and subtil Alchymist,

Long intermitted, could not quite be mist,

Though these have sham'd all th' ancients, and might raise

Their author's merit with a crown of bays,

Yet these sometimes, even at a friend's desire,

Acted, have scarce defray'd the sea-coal fire,

And door-keepers: when, let but Falstaff come,

Hal, Poins, the rest,—you scarce shall have a room,

All is so pester'd let but Beatrice

And Benedick be seen, lo! in a trice

The cock-pit, galleries, boxes, all are full,

To hear Malvolio, that cross-garter'd gull.

Brief, there is nothing in his wit-fraught book,

Whose sound we would not hear, on whose worth look," &c.

'Perhaps the initials of John Marston, from whom see an original letter to Lord Kimbolton on p. 179.

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