THE PREFACE OF THE PLAYERS. To the great variety of Readers. FROM ROM the most able, to him that can but fpell: There you are number'd, we had rather you were weigh'd. Especially, when the fate of all Bookes depends upon your capacities: and not of your heads alone, but of your purses. Well, it is now publike and you will stand for your priviledges, we know: to reade, and cenfure. Doe so, but buy it first. That doth best commend a Booke, the Stationer sayes Then, how odde foever your braines be, or your wifdomes, make your licence the fame, and fpare not. Judge your fixe-penny'orth, your shillings worth, your five shillings worth at a time, or higher, so you rise to the just rates, and welcome. But, whatever you doe, buy. Censure will not drive a Trade, or make the Jacke goe. And though you be a Magistrate of wit, and fit, on the Stage at Black-Fryers, or the Cock-pit, to arraigne Playes dayly, know, these Playes have had their C5 their triall already, and stood out all Appeales; and doe now come forth quitted rather by a Decree of Court, than any purchased letters of commendation. It had been a thing, we confesse, worthy to have been wished, that the Author himselfe had liv'd to have fet forth, and overseene his owne writings; But fince it hath been ordain'd otherwise, and he by death departed from that right, we pray you do not envy his Friends, the office of their care, and paine, to have collected and publish'd them; and so to have publisht them, as where (before) you were abus'd with divers stolne, and furreptitious Copies, maimed and deformed by the frauds and stealths of injurious Impoftors, that expos'd them: even those, are now offer'd to your view cured, and perfect of their limbes; and all the reft, abfolute in their numbers as he conceived them. Who, as he was a happy imitator of Nature, was a most gentle expresser of it. His minde and hand went together: And what he thought he uttered with that easinesse, that we have scarce received from him a blot in his papers. But it is not our Province, who onely gather his workes, and give them you, to praife him. It is yours that reade him. And there we hope, to your divers capacities, you will finde enough, both to draw, and hold you: for his wit can no more lie hid, then it could be loft. Reade him, therefore; and againe, and again: And if then you doe not like him, furely you are in some manifest danger, not to under-stand him. And fo we leave you to other of his Friends, who, if you need, can be your guides: if you Reede them not, you can leade yourselves, and others. And fuch readers we wish him. JOHN HEMINGE. MR. POPE's MR. POPE'S PREFACE. Tis not my design to enter into a criticism upon this Author; tho' to do it effectually and not fuperficially, would be the best occafion that any just Writer could take, to form the judgment and taste of our nation. For of all English Poets Shakespeare must be confefsed to be the fairest and fullest subject for Crititifm, and to afford the most numerous, as well as most confpicuous instances, both of Beauties and Faults of all forts. But this far exceeds the bounds of a Preface, the business of which is only to give an account of the fate of his works, and the disadvantages under which they have been transmitted to us. We shall hereby extenuate many faults which are his, and clear him from the imputation of many which are not: Adesign, which tho' it can be no guide to future Criticks to do him justice in one way, will at least be fufficient to prevent their doing him an injustice in the other. I cannot however but mention some of his principal and characteristic Excellencies for which (notwithstanding his defects) he is justly and universally elevated above all other Dramatick Writers. Not that this is the proper place of praising him, but because I would not omit any occasion of doing it. If ever any Author deserved the name of an Original, it was Shakespeare. Homer himself drew not his art art so immediately from the fountains of Nature, it proceeded thro' Ægyptian strainers and channels, and came to him not without fome tincture of the learning, or fome caft of the models, of those before him. The Poetry of Shakespeare was inspiration indeed: he is not fo much an Imitator, as an instrument, of Nature; and 'tis not so just to say that he speaks from her, as that she speaks thro' him. His Characters are so much Nature herself, that'tis a fort of injury to call them by so distant a name as Copies of her. Those of other Poets have a constant resemblance, which shews that they received them from one another, and were but multipliers of the same image: each picture like a mock-rainbow is but the reflexion of a reflexion. But every single character in Shakespeare is as much an Individual, as those in Life itfelf; it is as impossible to find any two alike; and fuch as from their relation or affinity in any respect appear most to be twins, will upon comparifon be found remarkably distinct. To this life and variety of Character, we must add the wonderful preservation of it; which is fuch throughout his Plays, that had all the Speeches been printed without the very names of the Persons, I believe one might have apply'd them with certainty to every speaker. The Porver over our Passions was never poffeffed in a more eminent degree, or display'd in so different inftances. Yet all along, there is seen no labour, no pains to raise them; no preparation to guide our guess to the effect, or be perceived to lead toward it: But the heart fwells, and the tears burst out, just at the proper places: We are furpriz'd the moment we weep; and yet upon reflexion find the passion so just, that we shou'd be furpriz'd if we had not wept, and wept at that very moment. How aftonishing is it again, that the Passions directly oppofite to these, Laughter and Spleen, are no less at his command! that he is not more a master of the Great than of the Ridiculous in human nature; of our noblest tendernesses, than of our vainest foibles; of our strongest emotions, than of our idlest sensations! Nor Nor does he only excel in the Passions: In the coolness of reflexion and Reasoning he is full as admirable. His Sentiments are not only in general the most pertinent and judicious upon every fubject; but by a talent very peculiar, something between Penetration and Felicity, he hits upon that particular point on which the bent of each argument turns, or the force of each moment depends. This is perfectly amazing, from a man of no education or experience in those great and publick scenes of life which are usually the subject of his thoughts: So that he seems to have known the world by Intuition, to have look'd thro' human nature at one glance, and to be the only Author that gives ground for a very new opinion, That the Philofopher, and even the Man of the world, may be Born, as well as the Poet. It must be own'd that with all these great excellencies, he has almost as great defects; and that as he has certainly written better, fo he has perhaps written worse, than any other. But I think I can in some measure account for these defects, from several causes and accidents; without which it is hard to imagine that so large and so enlighten'd a mind could ever have been fufceptible of them. That all these Contingencies should unite to his disadvantage seems to me almost as fingularly unlucky, as that so many various (nay contrary) Talents should meet in one man, was happy and extraordinary. It must be allowed that Stage-Poetry of all other, is more particularly levell'd to please the Populace, and its success more immediately depending upon the Common Suffrage. One cannot therefore wonder, if Shakefpeare, having at his first appearance no other aim in his writings than to procure a subsistance, directed his endeavours folely to hit the taste and humour that then prevailed. The Audience was generally compofed of the meaner fort of people; and therefore the Images of Life were to be drawn from those of their own rank: accordingly we find, that not our Author's only but almost all the old Comedies have their Scene among Tradesmen |