an instance of the unworthy manner in which he had almost universally been treated; and, without at the time having any suspicion of what I now take to be the fact, {346} I determined, if possible, to find it out.  The first question I put to myself was, Had Shakspeare himself any concern in the older play?  A second glance at the work sufficed for an answer in the negative.  I next asked myself on what authority we called it an “older” play.  The answer I found myself obliged to give was, greatly to my own surprise, On no authority whatever!  But there was still a difficulty in conceiving how, with Shakspeare’s work before him, so unscrupulous an imitator should have made so poor an imitation.  I should not have felt this difficulty had I then recollected that the play in question was not published; but, as the case stood, I carefully examined the two plays together, especially those passages which were identical, or nearly so, in both, and noted, in these cases, the minutest variations.  The result was, that I satisfied myself that the original conception was invariably to be found in Shakspeare’s play.  I have confirmed this result in a variety of ways, which your space will not allow me to enter upon; therefore, reserving such circumstances for the present as require to be enforced by argument, I will content myself with pointing out certain passages that bear out my view.  I must first, however, remind your readers that while some plays, from their worthlessness, were never printed, some were withheld from the press on account of their very value; and of this latter class were the works of Shakspeare.  The late publication of his works created the impression, not yet quite worn out, of his being a later writer than many of his contemporaries, solely because their printed works are dated earlier by twenty or thirty years.  But for the obstinate effects of this impression, it is difficult to conceive how any one could miss the original invention of Shakspeare in the induction, and such scenes as that between Grumio and the tailor; the humour of which shines, even in the feeble reflection of the imitation, in striking contrast with those comic(?) scenes which are the undisputed invention of the author of the Taming of a Shrew.

The first passage I take is from Act iv.  Sc. 3.

    “Grumio.  Thou hast fac’d many things?

    “Tailor.  I have.

    “Gru. Face not me:  thou hast brav’d many men; brave not me. 
    I will neither be fac’d nor brav’d.”

In this passage there is a play upon the terms “fac’d” and “brav’d.”  In the tailor’s sense, “things” may be “fac’d” and “men” may be “brav’d;” and, by means of this play, the tailor is entrapped into an answer.  The imitator, having probably seen the play represented, has carried away the words, but by transposing them, and with the change of one expression—­“men” for “things”—­has lost the spirit:  there is a pun no longer.  He might have played upon “brav’d,” but there he does not wait for the tailor’s answer; and “fac’d,” as he has it, can be understood but in one sense, and the tailor’s admission becomes meaningless.  The passage is as follows:—­