nice. That (quoth the Palmer) is discourst in a word for know, sir, that inioyning my selfe to penance for the follies of my youth's passions, hauing liued in loue, and therefore reape all my losse in loue: hearing that of all the cities in Europe Venice hath most semblance of Venus' vanities, I goe thither, not onely to see fashions, but to quip at follies, that I may draw others from that harme that hath brought me to this hazard.

"The gentlewomen of Venice, your neighbors, but vnknowne to me, haue more fauours in their faces, then vertue in their thoughts; and their beauties are more curious then their qualities be precious, caring more to be figured with Helen, then to be famoused with Lucrece: they striue to make their faces gorgeous, but neuer seeke to fitte their minds to their God, and couet to haue more knowledge in loue then in religion; their eyes bewray their wantonnesse, not their modesty, and their lookes are lures that reclaime not hawkes, but make them only baite at dead stales. As the gentlewomen, so are the men, loose liuers, strait louers, such as hold their co sciences in their purses and their thoughts in their eies, counting that houre ill spent that in fancy is not misspent. Because therefore this great city of Venice is holden loue's paradice, thither do I direct my pilgrimage, that seeing their passions I may, being a palmer, win them to penance by shewing the miseries that Venus mixeth with their momentary contents; if not, yet I shall carry home to my countrimen salues to cure their sores; I shall see much, heare little, and by the insight into other

men's extremes, returne more wary, meaning then to visite you, and make you privie to all.

"The heedful host hauing iudicially vnderstood the pittiful report of the Palmer, giuing truce to his passions, with the teares he shent, and resolued to requite that thaˇkfully which he had attended heedfully, gaue this catastrophe to his sad and sorrowfull discourse. Palmer, thou hast with the ritrell foreshewed the storme ere it comes, painting out the shapes of loue, as liuely as the grapes in Zeuxis tables were pourtrayed cunningly; thou hast lent youth eagle's eyes to behold the sun: Achilles sword to cut and recure, leauing those medicines to salue others, that hath lost thyselfe, and hauing burnt thy wings with the flie by dallying too long with the fire; thou hast bequeathed others a lesson with the vnicorne, to preuent poyson by preserues before they taste with the lip.'

"The Palmer set forward towards Venice: what there he did, or how hee liued, when I am aduertised (good gentlemen) I will send you tidings. Meanewhile let euery one learne (by Francescoe's fall) to beware, lest at last (too late) they be inforced to bewaile. Finis."

J. H.

ART. CXXXVIII. List of the Works of Robert

Greene.

ROBERT GREENE was born at Norwich. He was by birth a gentleman, received his education at Cambridge, and early made a continental tour. He appears to have taken his degree as M. A. of Clare

hall in that university, 1583.* He" was presented to the vicarage of Tollesbury, in Essex, the 19th of June, 1584, which he resigned the following year."+ It is probable about this period he married. The character of his wife, as pourtrayed by his own pen, is amiable and interesting; highly possessing those softer virtues, which adorn and dignify the female character. The offspring of this union was an only son; but, it is alleged, even this tie of nature com bined with all the endowments of the mother could not prevent desertion. This unfortunate circumstance is supposed to have occurred in 1586. Whatever fortune he inherited or received on his marriage, was idly and rapaciously squandered in riotous scenes of dissipation passed in the metropolis. In July 1588 he was incorporated at Oxford, when, according to Wood, he was well known by his poetical as well as satirical vein; and, says the same Editor, he "wrote to maintain his wife, and that high and loose course of living which poets generally follow." Winstanley observes "he made his pen mercenary," and Shiels considers him "the first of our poets who writ for bread," a circumstance not easily ascertained, and not very probable, and if a fact, a matter neither of reproach nor culpability. Many of his writings glaringly describe the wanton habits of his associates; and charity, lamenting the ungovernable pursuits of genius, must ever draw a veil over his numerous Conscious of the improprieties he had

errors.

*MS. note by Dr. Farmer. See Beloe's Anecdotes, &c. Vol. II. + See note, p. 22, of Examination of the charges of Ben Jonson's enmity to Shakespeare, 1808, by Mr. Gilchrist, a pamphlet that will convince as well as amuse.

thoughtlessly plunged into, he made strenuous exertions to warn the unthinking, and expose the tricks, frauds, and devices, of his miscreant companions. His works contain the seeds of virtue, while his acts display the tares of folly. The records of his penitence are many; and his intention to forsake his imprudent and dissolute course seems to have been founded in truth, good principles, and innate virtue, with an apparent consistency, and determination to carry it into effect. The imbecility of folly renders it wearisome, and disgusts; but the habit of indolence that accompanies it is not easily shaken off. In the delusive hope of gratification from the enjoyment of one day more, and the repugnance ever felt to commence the staid course of prudence, the best resolutions waver, are temporized with, and, in the abyss of pleasure, neglected, lost, and forgotten. Disre garded by his holiday acquaintance, and with a mind embittered with the keen anguish of remembrance, he ended the closing scene in character with the vagrant part of his life, dying according to Wood, about 1592, of a surfeit taken by eating pickled herrings and drinking rhenish wine. Gabriel Harvey, whom the same writer* compares to Achilles torturing the body of Hector, as he most inhumanly trampled upon Greene when he lay full low in his grave, states him to have been buried in the new church-yard near Bedlam.

His pieces were many, and the editions of several

* Wood's Ath. Oxon. Fast. Vol. I. Col. 136. The biographer transcribed from Meres this notice of Harvey's inhumanity. See Wit's Treasury, 1598, p. 286.

.

extremely numerous, and probably neither as yet wholly ascertained. Those I have perused, display a rich and glowing fancy, much originality and universal command of language, combined with an extensive knowledge of the world. His crowded similes are in unison with those of the period when he wrote, and prove him a disciple of the then fashionable Euphuean sect; they are in general well selected, appositely applied, and quaintly amuse while his moral instructs. He possessed considerable, if not first rate abilities, and it is inconsistent to measure either poetry or prose by any standard of criticism erected two centuries after the decease of the author.

The fame of Greene is not indebted to his biographers for any assistance; nor his character under any obligation to their lenity. To censure and condemn his weakness has not been sufficient; he has been stigmatised with the grossest vices, and it would be useless now to inquire for every authority. Much of the abuse is dictated from the pages of his inveterate antagonist Gabriel Harvey. The severe notes by Oldys are principally derived from the same polluted source, and the adoption of them by Steevens has tended to confirm their severity.* The names of Oldys and Steevens are entitled to universal respect and confidence; they may be considered to have sacrificed the greater portion of their lives in substituting facts for theory, and purifying English works from errors and inconsistency. Neither is it the province of one who occasionally recreates a mind, worn and corroded by the pursuits of others, in the

* Berkenhout's Biographia Literaria, p. 389.