rs, approved himself by dint of sheer
honesty and conscience not unworthy of a considerate hearing. To his
edition of Shakespeare I therefore refer all readers desirous of further
excerpts than I care to give.

The first scene of the third act is a storehouse of contemporary
commonplace. Nothing fresher than such stale pot-pourri as the following
is to be gathered up in thin sprinklings from off the dry flat soil. A
messenger informs the French king that he has descried off shore

The proud armado (_sic_) of King Edward's ships;
Which at the first, far off when I did ken,
Seemed as it were a grove of withered pines;
But, drawing on, their glorious bright aspect,
Their streaming ensigns wrought of coloured silk,
Like to a meadow full of sundry flowers,
Adorns the naked bosom of the earth;

and so on after the exactest and therefore feeblest fashion of the Pre-
Marlowites; with equal regard, as may be seen, for grammar and for sense
in the construction of his periods. The narrative of a sea-fight ensuing
on this is pitiable beyond pity and contemptibly beneath contempt.

In the next scene we have a flying view of peasants in flight, with a
description of five cities on fire not undeserving of its place in the
play, immediately after the preceding sea-piece: but relieved by such
wealth of pleasantry as marks the following jest, in which the most
purblind eye will be the quickest to discover a touch of the genuine
Shakespearean humour.

_1st Frenchman_. What, is it quarter-day, that you remove,
And carry bag and baggage too?

_2nd Frenchman_. Quarter-day? ay, and quartering-day, I fear.
_Euge_!

The scene of debate before Cressy is equally flat and futile, vulgar and
verbose; yet in this Sham Shakespearean scene of our present poeticule's
I have noted one genuine Shakespearean word, "solely singular for its
singleness."

So may thy temples with Bellona's hand
Be still adorned with laurel victory!

In this notably inelegant expression of goodwill we find the same use of
the word "laurel" as an adjective and epithet of victory which thus
confronts us in the penultimate speech of the third scene in the first
act of _Antony and Cleopatra_.

Upon your sword
Sit laurel victory, and smooth success
Be strewed before your feet!

There is something more (as less there could not be) of spirit and
movement in the battle-scene where Edward refuses to send re