it to Greene." Gervinus in his "Commentaries," took the same
view, but subsequently changed it. Knight has shown that the three parts
of "Henry VI." are "in the strictest sense" Shakspere's own, and Ulrici
agrees with Knight.

It is worthy of note that the "First Part" was acted thirteen times in
the spring of 1592 by Lord Strange's men, under the title "Henry VI."
Greene lived until the 2d of September in that year, and yet in his
"Groatsworth of Wit" he made no claim that the "First Part" was any
portion of his "feathers."

The next point made is that the two parts of the "Contention" were
written by the author of "Richard III." Malone studiously avoided any
comparison between them, and yet it is entirely clear that with the
"first Part of Henry VI." they form one drama. "'Richard III.' stands at
the end of the series as the avowed completion of a long tragic history.
The scenes of that drama are as intimately blended with the scenes of
the other dramas as the scenes that belong to the separate dramas are
blended among themselves. Its story not only naturally grows out of the
previous story,--its characters are not only, wherever possible, the
same characters as in the preceding dramas,--but it is even more
palpably linked with them by constant retrospection to the events which
they had exhibited."

In "Richard III." Margaret is still the same "she-wolf of France" as in
the three previous plays. If Shakspere wrote those terrible lines in
"Richard III.," as all scholars admit,--

"From forth the kennel of thy womb hath crept
A hell-hound, that doth hunt us all to death;
That dog, that had his teeth before his eyes,
To worry lambs, and lap their gentle blood;

* * * * *

O upright, just and true disposing God,
How do I thank thee, that this carnal cur
Preys on the issue of his mother's body,

* * * * *

Bear with me, I am hungry for revenge"--

if Shakspere wrote those lines, he wrote those like them from the same
lips, in the second part of the "Contention"--

"Or, where's that valiant crook-backed prodigy,
Dicky, your boy, that with his grumbling voice
Was wont to cheer his dad in mutinies?
Or, 'mongst the rest, where is your darling Rutland?
Look, York, I dipped this napkin in the blood
That valiant Clifford, with his rapier's point,
Made issue from the b