has, by
mistaking places, left his scenery inextricable. The reason of all this
confusion seems to be, that he took his story from a novel, which he
sometimes followed, and sometimes forsook, sometimes remembered, and
sometimes forgot.

That this play is rightly attributed to Shakespeare, I have little
doubt. If it be taken from him, to whom shall it be given? This question
may be asked of all the disputed plays, except Titus Andronicus; and it
will be found more credible that Shakespeare might sometimes sink below
his highest flights, than that any other should rise up to his lowest.

MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR.

Of this play there is a tradition preserved by Mr. Rowe, that it was
written at the command of queen Elizabeth, who was so delighted with the
character of Falstaff, that she wished it to be diffused through more
plays; but, suspecting that it might pall by continued uniformity,
directed the poet to diversify his manner, by showing him in love. No
task is harder than that of writing to the ideas of another. Shakespeare
knew what the queen, if the story be true, seems not to have known, that
by any real passion of tenderness, the selfish craft, the careless
jollity, and the lazy luxury of Falstaff must have suffered so much
abatement, that little of his former cast would have remained. Falstaff
could not love, but by ceasing to be Falstaff. He could only counterfeit
love, and his professions could be prompted, not by the hope of
pleasure, but of money. Thus the poet approached as near as he could to
the work enjoined him; yet having, perhaps, in the former plays,
completed his own idea, seems not to have been able to give Falstaff all
his former power of entertainment.

This comedy is remarkable for the variety and number of the personages,
who exhibit more characters appropriated and discriminated, than,
perhaps, can be found in any other play.

Whether Shakespeare was the first that produced upon the English stage
the effect of language distorted and depraved by provincial or foreign
pronunciation, I cannot certainly decide[3]. This mode of forming
ridiculous characters can confer praise only on him who originally
discovered it, for it requires not much of either wit or judgment; its
success must be derived almost wholly from the player, but its power in
a skilful mouth even he that despises it is unable to resist.

The conduct of this drama is deficient; the action begins and ends often
before the conclu