man." It
had been easy enough, he adds, to have arrogated more to himself than
was his due in the writing of the play; but "besides the worthlessness
of the action, which deterred me from it, (there being nothing so base
as to rob the dead of his reputation,) I am satisfied I could never have
received so much honour in being thought the author of any poem, how
excellent soever--as I shall from the joining of my imperfections with
the merit and name of Shakspeare and Sir William D'Avenant." From all
this, and more of the same sort, 'tis plain that Dryden's share in the
composition was at least equal to--we should say, much greater
than--D'Avenant's.

You must not meddle with Miranda--for she is all our own. Yet we
cheerfully introduce you to her sister, Dorinda, and leave you all alone
by yourselves for an hour's flirtation. Hush! she is describing the
ship!

"This floating Ram did bear his horns above,
And tied with ribands, ruffling in the wind:
Sometimes he nodded down his head awhile,
And then the waves did heave him to the moon,
He climbing to the top of all the billows;
And then again he curtsied down so low
I could not see him. Till at last, all sidelong
With a great crack, his belly burst in pieces."

We had but once before handled this performance--some threescore and ten
years ago, when a man of middle age. We dimly remember being amused in
our astonishment. Now that we are beginning to get a little old, we are,
perhaps, growing too fastidious; yet surely it is something very
shocking. Portsmouth Poll and Plymouth Sall--sisters originating at
Yarmouth--when brought into comparison with Miranda and Dorinda of the
enchanted island, to our imagination seem idealized into Vestal virgins.
True, they were famous--when not half seas over--for keeping a quiet
tongue in their mouths: with them mum was the word. Only when drunk as
blazes, poor things, did they, by word or gesture, offend modesty's most
sacred laws. But D'Avenant's and Dryden's daughters are such leering and
lascivious drabs, so dreadfully addicted to innuendoes and _doubles
entendres_ of the most alarming character, that, high as is our opinion
of the intrepidity of British seamen, we should not fear to back the two
at odds against a full-manned jolly-boat from a frigate in the offing
sent in to fill her water-casks. Caliban himself--and what a Caliban he
has become!--fights shy of the plenireps. Why--if it must be so--we give
our