popularity perhaps in some measure arose from the detestation in which Richard's character was justly held, which must have operated more strongly on those whose grand-fathers might have lived near his time; and from its being patronized by the Queen on the throne, who probably was not a little pleased at seeing King Henry VII. placed in the only favourable light in which he could have been exhibited on the scene. MALONE.

I most cordially join with Dr. Johnson and Mr. Malone in their opinions; and yet perhaps they have overlooked one cause of the success of this tragedy. The part of Richard is, perhaps, beyond all others variegated, and consequently favourable to a judicious performer. It comprehends, indeed, a trait of almost every species of character on the stage. The hero, the lover, the statesman, the buffoon, the hypocrite, the hardened and repenting sinner, &c. are to be found within its compass. No wonder, therefore, that the discriminating powers of a Burbage, a Garrick, and a Henderson, should at different periods have given it a popularity be yond other dramas of the same author.

Yet the favour with which this tragedy is now received, must also in some measure be imputed to Mr. Cibber's reformation of it, which, generally considered, is judicious: for what modern audience would patiently listen to the narrative of Clarence's dreain, his subsequent expostulation with the Murderers, the prattle of his Children, the soliloquy of the Scrivener, the tedious dialogue of the Citizens, the ravings of Margaret, the gross terms thrown out by the Duchess of York on Richard, the repeated progress to execution, the superfluous train of spectres, and other undramatic incumbrances, which must have prevented the more valuable parts of the play from rising into their present effect and consequence? The expulsion of languor, therefore, must atone for such remaining want of probability as is inseparable from an historical drama into which the events of fourteen years are irregularly compressed. STEEVENS.

PERSONS REPRESENTED.

KING HENRY THE EIGHTH.

CARDINAL WOLSEY.-CARDINAL CAMPEIUS. CAPUCIUS, Ambassador from the Emperor, Charles

V.

CRANMER, Archbishop of Canterbury.

DUKE OF NORFOLK.-DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM.

DUKE OF SUFFOLK.-EARL of SURREY.
LORD CHAMBERLAIN. LORD CHANCELLOR.
GARDINER, Bishop of Winchester.

BISHOP OF LINCOLN.-LORD ABERGAVENNY.-LORD

SANDS.

SIR HENRY GUILDFORD.-SIR THOMAS LOVELL.
SIR ANTHONY DENNY.-SIR NICHOLAS VAUX.
SECRETARIES to Wolsey.

CROMWELL, Servant to Wolsey.

GRIFFITH, Gentleman-Usher to Queen Katharine. THREE OTHER GENTLEMEN.

DOCTER BUTTS, Physician to the King.

GARTER KING AT ARMS.

SURVEYOR to the Duke of Buckingham.
BRANDON, and a Sergeant at Arms.

Door-keeper of the Council-Chamber.-Porter, and his Man.

Page to Gardiner.-A Cryer.

QUEEN KATHARINE, Wife to King Henry; afterwards divorced,

ANNE BULLEN, her Maid of Honour; afterwards

Queen.

AN OLD LADY, Friend to Anne Bullen.
PATIENCE, Woman to Queen Katharine.

Several Lords and Ladies in the Dumb Shows; Women attending upon the Queen; Spirits, which appear to her; Scrives, Officers, Guards, and other Attendants.

Scene, chiefly in London and Westminster; once at Kimbolton.

PROLOGUE.

I come no more to make you laugh; things now,
That bear a weighty and a serious brow,
Sad, high, and working, full of state and woe,
Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow,
We now present. Those that can pity, here
May, if they think it well, let fall a tear;
The subject will deserve it. Such, as give
Their money out of hope they may believe,
May here find truth too. Those, that come to see
Only a show or two, and so agree,

The play may pass; if they be still, and willing,
I'll undertake, may see away their shilling
Richly in two short hours. Only they,
That come to hear a merry, bawdy play,
A noise of targets; or to see a fellow

In a long motley coat, guarded with yellow,
Will be deceived: for, gentle hearers, know,.
To rank our chosen truth with such a show
As fool and fight is, besides forfeiting

Our own brains, and the opinion that we bring,
(To make that only true we now intend,)

Will leave us never an understanding friend. Therefore, for goodness' sake, and as you are

known

The first and happiest hearers of the town,
Be sad, as we would make ye: think, ye sce
The very persons of our noble story,

As they were living; think, you see them great,
And follow'd with the general throng, and sweat,
Of thousand friends; then, in a moment, see
How soon this mightiness meets misery!
And, if you can be merry then, I'll say,
A man may weep upon his wedding day.

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