king, who flattered him to his ruin, and then in his hour of danger deserted him. 688. Peaceful. Used in irony here, and referring to the professed cause of Bolingbroke's return, namely, to recover the estates of his dead father, which Richard had seized. 697. Spotted -guilty. 698. His property-its natural quality. 703. Gravedentombed.

706. Power-forces. 716. Model-Perhaps, in the present instance, model means the sepulchral hillock of earth which shows the lengtli and breadth of the body beneath it. 724. Rounds-surrounds. 725. There the antic sits, etc.-This is an allusion to the antic or buffoon of the old farces, whose chief part was to deride and disturb the graver personages, and is here made to refer to Death, ridiculing and mocking at the power and state of kings. Or it may be that the allusion is to the old Vice, who used to personate the buffoon or fool of our ancient drama. 728. To monarchise-to play the king. 729. Infusing-inspiring, endowing. 735. Solemn reverence, etc.formal or ceremonious regard. Respect-consideration or deference paid to a person on account of his rank, wealth, etc. 736. Traditionestablished or customary homage. 737. Mistook-mistaken. 739. Subjected thus-made thus subservient; enslaved. 742. Presentlyinstantly; immediately. 746. To fight-by fighting.

747. And fight and die, etc.-The meaning of these two lines seems to be this, that to fight and meet death, as a brave man does, is to disarm death, and remove all terror and disgrace from such a death; while to die fearing, as a coward does, is to yield in a manner indicating meanness of spirit and baseness of character. 748. Where-whereas. 750. Make a body of a limb-the meaning seems to be, take my father's army as a part of your own, and do all in your power to increase it. 768. Beshrew-curse. 771. I'll hate him everlastingly, etc.-There is nothing more offensive to a mind convinced that its distress is without a remedy, and prepared to submit quietly to irresistible calamity, than the petty comforts which officious friends think it a virtue to administer. 776. To ear the land—that is, to plough it. So in All's Well that Ends Well:

"He that ears my land, spares my team."

(A.-S. erian, connected with Lat. arare, to plough, to cultivate.) The allusion is to his cousin Bolingbroke.

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PART V.

792. This little world-his own frame, his body. 793. Humoursdispositions, fancies. 795. As thoughts of things divine-this expression is in a sort of apposition to the better sort" of the previous line, and is thus explanatory of that phrase. 796. Set the word, etc.-the Scriptures; the meaning is, set one passage of Scripture against another. 798. Come little ones," etc.-These passages seem to be taken from St. Matthew, xix. 14, and xi. 28. 801. They -this pronoun is superfluous. 809. Sitting in the stocks-the stocks consisted of a strong wooden frame with holes in which the feet, or the feet and hands, of vagrants and criminals were confined by way of punishment. Id. Refuge their shame, etc.-find excuse for their shame in the thought that many have sat, and many others must yet sit in the same disgraceful plight. 814. In one person-Alluding,

perhaps, to the necessities of the early theatres, when we learn that three or four characters were frequently represented by one person. 819. King'd-made a king. 820. Unking d-deprived of kingship, that is, deposed. 821. Straight-immediately. 822. But-only. 826. Broke that is, broken, interrupted. Proportion-harmony.

828. Daintiness of ear-said of one that has a nice and delicate ear for music, who, when harmony is awanting or is violated, easily checks it, that is, detects it, and is painfully sensitive to the offensive discord. 838. Now, sir-Richard is speaking to himself, as if to an imaginary person. 843. His Jack o' the clock-that is, I strike for him. The allusion is to those automata, or metal figures, which in old clocks, by some mechanical contrivance, used to strike the hours. 844. This music mads me—that is, maddens. When his thoughts turn to the conscious misery of his downfall, the music calls forth a kindly feeling and a blessing; for he thinks of it as the last tribute of some humble and still loyal subject, who is lingering with affection about his prison walls. 845. Holp-helped. 849. Brooch-Richard means to say that love to him was a strange jewel in an all-hating world, that is, in a world in which he was universally hated. 852. Ten groats too dear-Royals and nobles were names of coins in the time of Shakespeare the value of the former being ten shillings, and of the latter six shillings and eightpence; the difference between them is three shillings and fourpence, or ten groats, the value of the groat being fourpence. The king, therefore, plays upon the words "royal" and "noble." 854. Sad dog-the word sad was used in the time of our author for grave. The expression will thus mean, that grave, that gloomy villain.

859. Sometime-former. 860. Yearned-grieved: vexed; moved my heart with sorrow and regret; pained me. 862. Roan-a bay or dark colour, with spots of gray and white; also applied to a mixed colour, having a decided shade of red. (Fr. rouan, from Lat. rufanus, reddish; rufus, red.) 865. Barbary-this alludes to the Barbary steed, noted for docility, speed, and endurance, so called from being got from Barbary, the northern part of Africa. 873. Usurp-to seize and hold in possession by force, or without right. (Lat. usurpare, contracted from usu-rapere, from usu, by use, and rapere, to seize.) 874. Rail onreproach. (Fr. railler, to swagger. bluster, scold.) 878. Spur-galled -galled or hurt by a spur. Id. Jauncing Bolingbroke to jaunce is to ride hard; to harass; here, perhaps, it means hard-riding. 895. Gross-dull, heavy; opposed to the spiritual idea connected with the soul. (Fr. gros; Lat. crassus, thick, dense, fat.)

THE MERCHANT OF VENICE.

INTRODUCTION.

THE MERCHANT OF VENICE is one of Shakespeare's most perfect works, popular to an extraordinary degree, and calculated to produce the most powerful effect on the stage. It is, at the same time, a wonder of ingenuity and art for the reflecting critic. Although named after Antonio, the merchant, yet he is by no means the chief person of the drama. Bassanio, his friend; Shylock, his bitter enemy; and Portia, who saves him; are grouped round him as a centre. The relentless cruelty and vindictive blood-thirstiness of Shylock, which hold his victim in their fierce and vice-like grip; and the kindly, womanly goodness of Portia, as bright and beneficent as the sunlight, combined with high and refined intellectual power, which successfully baffles the fiendish designs of the Jew; are the more prominent features which the poet presents to us. Antonio, although thus occupying a place subordinate to these other characters -his part being rather a passive than an active one-is nevertheless a firmly conceived and clearly indicated character; being, perhaps, purposely kept in a low and subdued position, so as not to interfere with the masculine cruelty of Shylock, nor the beautiful feminine force of Portia. Schlegel has described "his melancholy and selfsacrificing magnanimity as affectingly sublime. Like a princely merchant, he is surrounded by a whole train of noble friends. The contrast which this forms to the selfish cruelty of the usurer Shylock was necessary to redeem the honour of human nature."

In this play Shakespeare has, as was usual with him, dramatised certain stories which had previously obtained popularity in this country. An old translation of the Gesta Romanorum, first printed by Wynkin de Worde, existed in the time of our author. It was a very popular book with the readers of that period; and Shakespeare has pretty closely copied some of the language of that work, especially the tales of the bond and the caskets-an additional argument, were that needed, of his course of reading. In another work, Il Pecorone, a collection of tales, written by Signor Giovanni, a notary of Florence, are found the incident of the ring, which forms the subject of the 5th Act, and the first mention of Belmont. In a once popular ballad, 66 showing the cruelty of Gernutus, a Jew, who, lending to a merchant an hundred crowns, would have a pounde of his fleshe, because he could not pay him at the time appointed," may be found additional hints which led to the production of this great work. The skeleton of his drama is there plain enough; but he clothed that skeleton with a covering of living beauty, and breathed into such poetic vitality, that succeeding ages have pointed to it as a model of ideal excellence and unapproachable splendour; and being superior to the older performances, the latter have been permitted silently to drop into oblivion.

The date of the play is uncertain. It was first printed in 1600; and perhaps 1596 is as likely a date for its production as we can fix upon. The precise year does not matter very much, if it be remembered that the play occupies an intermediate place between the early and the middle group of Shakespeare's comedies.

THE MERCHANT OF VENICE.

SCENE.-Partly at Venice, and partly at Belmont,
the seat of Portia.

PART I.

ACT I., SCENE 1.-Bassanio makes known his wants to his kinsman and friend Antonio.

SCENE.-Venice. A Street.

[Bassanio, a soldier of Venice, is a suitor for the hand of. Portia, a rich and beautiful lady, who dwells at Belmont, in the neighbourhood of Venice; but being poor, he applies to Antonio, the merchant, to advance him such a sum as will enable him to appear in suitable degree before the lady of his love. Antonio, who has on former occasions lent him money, is at present unable to do so, as his whole capital is invested in various commercial speculations. Such is his enthusiastic affection, however, for his friend that he empowers him to make whatever use he may deem proper of his name and his credit amongst the wealthy citizens of Venice, in order to procure a loan sufficient for his present needs, and promises to grant suitable security for its repayment by a certain fixed date.]

Enter ANTONIO, SALARINO, and SALANIO.
•Ant. In sooth, I know not why I am so sad;
It wearies me; you say, it wearies you;
But how I caught it, found it, or came by it,
What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born,
I am to learn;

•And such a want-wit sadness makes of me,
That I have much ado to know myself.

Salar. Your mind is tossing on the ocean;
There, where your argosies with portly sail,-
Like signiors and rich burghers on the flood,
•Or, as it were, the pageants of the sea,-
Do overpeer the petty traffickers,

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That curtsey to them, do them reverence,

As they fly by them with their woven wings.

•Salan. Believe me, sir, had I such venture forth,

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The better part of my affections would
Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still
Plucking the grass, to know where sits the wind;
•Peering in maps for ports, and piers, and roads;
And every object that might make me fear
Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt,
Would make me sad.

Salar. My wind, cooling my broth,

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THE MERCHANT OF VENICE.

•Would blow me to an ague, when I thought
What harm a wind too great might do at sea.
I should not see the sandy hour-glass run,
But I should think of shallows and of flats;
And see my wealthy Andrew dock'd in sand,
Vailing her high-top lower than her ribs,
To kiss her burial. Should I go to church,
And see the holy edifice of stone,

•And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks?
Which touching but my gentle vessel's side,
Would scatter all her spices on the stream;
Enrobe the roaring waters with my silks:
•And, in a word, but even now worth this.

And now worth nothing? Shall I have the thought
To think on this; and shall I lack the thought,
That such a thing, bechanced, would make me sad?
But tell not me; I know, Antonio

Is sad to think upon his merchandise.

Ant. Believe me, no: I thank my fortune for it,
•My ventures are not in one bottom trusted,
Nor to one place; nor is my whole estate
Upon the fortune of this present year:

Therefore, my merchandise makes me not sad.
Salan. Why then you are in love.

Ant. Fy, fy!

Salan. Not in love neither? Then let's say, you are sad,

Because you are not merry: and 'twere as easy

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For you, to laugh, and leap, and say, you are merry,
Because you are not sad. Now, by two-headed Janus,
Nature hath framed strange fellows in her time:

Some, that will evermore peep through their eyes,
And laugh, like parrots, at a bag-piper;
And other of such vinegar aspect,

That they'll not show their teeth in way of smile,
Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable.

Enter BASSANIO, LORENZO, and GRATIANO.
Bass. Good signiors both, when shall we laugh?

Say, when?

You grow exceeding strange: Must it be so?
•Salar. We'll make our leisures to attend on yours.

[Exeunt Salarino and Salanio.

Lor. My lord Bassanio, since you have found Antonio,

We two will leave you: but, at dinner-time,
I pray you, have in mind where we must meet.

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