(that turns out to be the rescue of Silvia from the outlaws by Proteus and his party), he utters these lines:

These are my mates, that make their will their law,

Have some unhappy passenger in chase;

They love me well; yet I have much to do,

To keep them from uncivil outrages.

Withdraw thee, Valentine; who's this comes here?

[Steps aside.

Enter PROTEUS, SILVIA and JULIA.

It must now be mentioned that Julia, the betrothed of Proteus, not having heard from her false lover for a long while, had some time before left Verona disguised as a page, and had succeeded in entering the service of Proteus, under the name of Sebastian, in which character she now accompanies him. With this explanation, and with Valentine listening in the thicket, we will return to the text.

PRO. (to Silvia). Madam, this service I have done for you

(Though you respect not aught your servant doth),

To hazard life, and rescue you from him
That would have forced your honour and your

Vouchsafe me, for my meed, but one fair look;
A smaller boon than this I cannot beg,

And less than this, I am sure, you cannot give.

love.

VAL. (from his concealment). How like a dream is this I see and hear;
Love, lend me patience to forbear a while.

SIL. O miserable, unhappy that I am!
PRO. Unhappy were you, madam, ere I came;

But, by my coming, I have made you happy.
SIL. By thy approach thou mak'st me most unhappy.
JUL. And me, when he approacheth to your presence.
SIL. Had I been seized by a hungry lion,

I would have been a breakfast to the beast,
Rather than have false Proteus rescue me.
O Heaven be judge, how I love Valentine,
Whose life's as tender to me as my soul;
And full as much (for more there cannot be),
I do detest false perjured Proteus:
Therefore, begone; solicit me no more.

*

PRO. Nay, if the gentle spirit of moving words
Can no way change you to a milder form,

I'll woo you like a soldier, at arms' end :

And love you 'gainst the nature of love, force you. SIL. O Heaven!

[Aside.

PRO.

I'll force thee yield to my desire.

VAL. (discovering himself). Ruffian, let go that rude uncivil touch;
Thou friend of an ill fashion!

VAL. Thou common friend, that's without faith or love;
(For such is a friend now), treacherous man!
Thou hast beguiled my hopes; nought but mine eye
Could have persuaded me: Now I dare not say,
I have one friend alive; thou would'st disprove me.
Who should be trusted now, when one's right hand
Is perjured to the bosom ? Proteus,

I am sorry I must never trust thee more,

But count the world a stranger for thy sake.

The private wound is deepest. O time, most curst; 'Mongst all foes, that a friend should be the worst. PRO. My shame and guilt confound me

Julia is then discovered. indescribable poltroonery and baseness of Valentine in resigning the devoted and heroic Silvia to the villain Proteus, because the latter, under a sense of policy and fear, expressed sudden contrition for his execrable crimes. Proteus, however, does not think it prudent to accept Silvia under such an offer from the chief of a band of outlaws; so he makes a virtue of necessity by renewing his fealty to Julia in about six lines. Whereupon Valentine, finding that Proteus declines to receive Silvia at his hands, makes the original lovers happy by joining them together.

No wonder that she fainted under the

PRO. O Heaven! were man

But constant, he were perfect; that one error

Fills him with faults; makes him run through all sins:
Inconstancy falls off, ere it begins:

What is in Silvia's face, but I may spy

More fresh in Julia's with a constant eye?

VAL. Come, come, a hand from either:

Let me be blest to make this happy close;

'Twere pity two such friends should be long foes.

PRO. Bear witness, Heaven, I have my wish for ever.
JUL. And I have mine.

Everything being thus amicably settled, it unfortunately happens that those incorrigible fellows, the outlaws, suddenly turn up again in another act of villainy.

Enter Outlaws, with the DUKE and THURIO.

OUTLAW. A prize, a prize, a prize!

VAL.

Forbear, forbear, I say; it is my lord the Duke,
Your grace is welcome to a man disgraced.

Thurio, hereupon discovering Silvia, at once lays claim to her, but Valentine, who has suddenly recovered his affection also, threatens him with instant death if he dare "take but possession of her with a touch," concluding his fiery menace with

"I dare thee but to breathe upon my love!"

Thurio, of course, gives Silvia up; upon which the Duke, in disgust with his cowardice, denounces him as base and degenerate, and magnanimously hands Silvia over to Sir Valentine. Then follows the climax, in the following sudden conversions to morality, on the part of the brigands, whose miraculous repentance at once receives a reward which elicits our amazement :

VAL. I thank your grace: the gift hath made me happy.
I now beseech you, for your daughter's sake,

To grant one boon that I shall ask of you.
DUKE. I grant it for thine own, whate'er it be.

VAL.

These banish'd men, that I have kept withal,
Are men endued with worthy qualities;
Forgive them what they have committed here,
And let them be recall'd from their exile.
They are reformed, civil, full of good,
And fit for great employment, worthy lord.
DUKE. Thou hast prevail'd; I pardon them, and thee:
Dispose of them as thou knowest their deserts.
Come, let us go : we will conclude all jars

With triumphs, mirth, and rare solemnity.

Now, as Valentine represents these outlaws (who had given him so much to do to keep them from uncivil outrage) to be meu endued with worthy qualities, and declares them to be not only

reformed, civil, and good," but "fit for great employment," the carte blanche which the Duke gives to him to "dispose of them" as he "know'st their deserts," can hardly mean less than the appointment of them to positions under Government. A fine request, truly, to make for Silvia's sake, who had been rudely captured by these thieves; and for a father to make, who had himself just escaped from their attempt to rifle and, perhaps, to murder him. And, in order to make sure that these lawless rascals would have not hesitated, because of any qualms of conscience, to have had recourse to the latter extremity, the reader has only to turn to their own description of themselves at the opening of Act IV., when they chose Valentine to be their captain. But it is no portion of my task to show the contradictions and incongruities of Shakespeare, except where they bear upon the points we have in hand; and I have, therefore, but to say, in excuse for the extent of my extracts from the "Two Gentlemen," that the numerous absurdities they exhibit against our poet, do not seem to be the logical product of the mind of such an exact lawyer, statesman, and philosopher as Bacon.

CHAPTER XI.

THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR."

THE events of this play are supposed to take place between the First and Second Parts of "Henry IV." Falstaff is still in favour at court, and the compliment of Ford on his warlike preparations must, says Mr. Harness, allude to the service he had done at Shrewsbury. Shallow, Bardolph, Pistol, and Nym are the same as in the former plays, though it is evident that Mrs. Quickly, the servant of Doctor Caius, the French physician, is quite a different person from hostess Quickly, of the Boar's Head, in Eastcheap, who subsequently married Ancient Pistol. The tradition respecting the origin of this comedy is that Queen Elizabeth was so well pleased with the admirable character of Falstaff that she ordered Shakespeare to continue it and show him in love. To this we owe "The Merry Wives of Windsor;" and, says Mr. Dennis, who, in 1702, somewhat rearranged the play under the title of "The Comical Gallant," "she was so eager to see it acted that she commanded it to be finished in fourteen days." Tradition further says that she was exceedingly pleased at its representation. All of which, if true, must convince the thoughtful reader who has perused the delectable dialogues between Doll Tearsheet and Sir John and the free language of "The Merry Wives of Windsor," that the charm exercised over her Majesty by such very broad allusions proves her to have been a true daughter of Henry VIII. Let me be excused, therefore, if I quote a supporting picture of her Majesty, by Edward Dowden, LL.D., Professor of English Literature in the University of Dublin, and Vice-President of the new Shakespeare Society, from an admirable volume, entitled "A Critical Study of Shakespeare's Mind and Art," which has just (1875) been issued from the London press: