Meanwhile, it is certain that the story of Cassibelan, which is given in the Bibliothèque Universelle des Romans, 1781, (Janv. A., p. 21) without any note of the source, has been in no way used by Shakespeare; for, although this agrees with his representation even to the minutest points, this agreement is far too close to allow us to deny that the composer has rather drawn from Shakespeare. In some notes subjoined to this story, even the English commentary on Shakespeare is made use of; for example, p. 64, where the passage quoted from Erasmus is borrowed from a note of Warburton. We cannot, therefore, doubt that the editors of the Bibliothèque have copied Shakespeare's "Cymbeline," and, contrary to their usual custom, have omitted to mention the source whence it was taken, to conceal the departure from the plan of their work, which was only to contain extracts from romances, not from plays.

The story of Boccaccio has probably taken its rise from a Latin original, which is most likely that of the German folkbook, which appeared first without date or place, under the title, Ein leipliche history und Warheit von vier Kaufmendern (a pleasant history and truth of four merchants); and was afterwards printed at Nuremburg, under the title, Ain lipliche historie von fier Kaufleuten. In Sweden and Denmark this book is still popular; in Germany it has gone out of use, but has been lately replaced by an entirely modern work, which has arisen out of Boccaccio's novel. It bears the title of "The beautiful Caroline a Captain of Hussars, or the magnanimous merchant's wife," 8vo., 1826. Upon the earlier work, compare Grimm, Altdeutsche Wälder, i., 68.

1 Mr. Collier, in his Shakespeare's Library, gives an account of two old French romances, which contain the incident of the wager. In one of these, a secret hole in the wall of the room where the lady takes a bath enables the man to discover a peculiar mark on her body; in the other, tokens are stolen by a perfidious attendant. These tales prove the popularity of this incident, but only remotely illustrate Shakespeare's plot.-ED.

Augustus von Schlegel gives as the idea of "All's Well that Ends Well," that female truth and submission conquer the misuse of male superiority. Thus expressed, the same thought is the foundation also of the present play, and of several others of Shakespeare's; among these we place King Lear, The Winter's Tale, Two Gentlemen of Verona, Much Ado about Nothing, Pericles of Tyre, and Othello: though, in the last, the triumph of pure womanhood takes a tragic turn. In "Measure for Measure," Shakespeare scarcely found this idea ready to his hand; but, by the alterations already noticed, he contrived to draw his material into the same circle, and even to duplicate the principle in Isabella and Mariana. In "The London Prodigal," falsely attributed to Shakespeare, it is the wonderful fidelity of the woman which reforms the villain of the piece. We should never finish our task, if we were to enumerate all the fictions on this subject; we therefore confine ourselves to the most important. Schlegel has already quoted, in illustration, the story of Griselda, which, under the name of "The Margrave Walther," has become a popular German story: but we may as justly reckon among the number those of Lucretia, in Livy; of Bertha with the broad foot, the wife of Pipin (compare Valentine Schmidt, on the Italian heroic poems, 1-42, and Grimm, "Old German Forests," iii., 43); of Hildegard, the wife of Charles the Great, (Schreiber's "Tales of the Rhine," 63) which agrees in almost every point with that of Crescentia (Kolocza Codex, edited by Count Mailath, Pest. 1817, 241). The two last stories are merely the Oriental tale of the Cadi and his wife, "Arabian Nights," ii., 243 et seq. Even the confession is found here, but not the leprosy. (Compare chap. ci. of the English Gesta Romanorum, according to the extract in Douce, Illustrations of Shakespeare, ii., 416.) The popular tales of Hirlanda, Helena, and Kaisar Octavian, again belong to this cycle; and these are connected, as well with one another, as the last mentioned is with the French tale of Valentine and

Orson. To these we must add the stories of Genofeva and Siegfried, connected with the tale of Siegfried's birth, as told in the Wilkinasage; and finally, the new popular book of Itha con Toggenburg, whose fortunes are related in the last volume of the German "Thousand and One Nights," 168. The romance of Sir Galmy in the "Book of Love," of which an abridged popular form has been preserved, forms the connexion between these and Fridolin. Still later comes Käthchen von Heilbronn, which is closely connected with Giletta di Narbonne, and with an English ballad in which the dream under the elder tree heard by the Knight occurs, which has given so much pleasure on our stage. The Scottish ballad of Child Waters is more similar to Griselda. The Roman de la Violette, the origin of Spohr's Euryanthe, stands between our tale and that of Crescentia. Finally, the old German heroic poem of Chautrun, and the Indian tales of Damajanti and of Sacontala, have the same tendency.

In this great family of stories, a narrower cycle is formed by those which, like our tale, begin with a husband who is at first well disposed, and convinced of the virtue of his wife, and who wagers with a calumniator of the whole sex that the latter shall not be able to triumph over the lady's virtue. This introduction has decided advantages; for, besides that it at once establishes the theme in question, it also serves greatly to the development of the principal idea, when the husband, at first so confident that he can venture his whole fortune upon his wife's virtue, is yet not found sufficiently firm in his belief and confidence, inasmuch as he suffers himself to be deceived by proofs and tokens surreptitiously obtained, and to be hurried into barbarities which terminate in introducing the triumph of feminine fidelity and patience. The apparent victory gained for a while by the unworthy opinion of the sex only serves at last to show the purity and exalted nature of women in brighter colours, in which even the best husband has shown too little confidence.

This may be the reason why this introduction is such a favourite, though it occurs sometimes in tales where it can have no effect, the story taking another turn. Among this number is the favourite ballad—

"There sat two companions," &c.,

in which the divulging of the secrets of love is avenged immediately upon the person who betrays them; for his love, who has listened to the companions, shuts the door upon him, and sends him away with the well known words—" Go whence thou camest, and bind thy horse on a green bough." Compare Cento novelle Antiche, nov. 61.

If we compare this with our story, it appears censurable, in the first instance, that Bernabo should so much as speak of the charms of his wife before those licentious strange merchants; and, in fact, his loquacity may be considered as the origin of all his succeeding misfortunes.

The story of Lucretia also begins with a similar wager, though Livy has left it in doubt whether it referred to the lady's excellence generally, or only to that of her chastity. Here, indeed, Tarquinius Sextus breaks the conditions of the wager, inasmuch as he gains by force what Ambrogivolo's cunning pretends to have obtained; but the shaming of the husband for his wavering faith does not occur. On the other hand, the death of Lucretia, in reference to Collatinus, may be considered as a punishment of his vainglory, or of his guilt in having so much as questioned the virtue of his wife.

The story takes another turn in the Middle High German poem of the two merchants, (reprinted in "The Old German Forests," i., 35-66) the contents of which we give in an abridged form, as it refers not only to our story, but to Boccaccio's Gilletta di Narbonne, and to the alterations which Shakespeare has made in "Measure for Measure," in the material which he borrowed from Cinthio.

In Verdun, in France, lived two merchants, who were intimate friends, named Gilot and Gillam; one of whom was

rich, and the other poor. The rich man had a daughter named Irmengart; the poor man a son called Bertram. Friendship moves Gilot to give his daughter in marriage to the son of his poor friend. When the wedding has been solemnized, and the bride taken home, Bertram is compelled by urgent business to go to the annual fair at Provins. Taking a tender leave of his young wife, he arrives safely at Provins, where he takes up his quarters at the best inn. At table he meets with many merchants, who, in the course of conversation, speak of their wives at home. One pretends that he is sure his wife is a devil, and no woman; and no one should come too near her. The other, on the contrary, praises his as kind and compassionate, and one given to taking pity on her neighbours; whereby it comes to pass that he has two bastards to support. The third has a wife who "drinks till her tongue stumbles," &c. The host then challenges Bertram to give an account of his wife, and he praises her as the flower of all women. The host, however, offers to wager with him, that within a short time he will go to bed with her. Bertram accepts the challenge, and both stake all their possessions on the wager. his wife that he is going to Venice, and will not return very shortly; and the host betakes himself to Verdun, and takes lodgings opposite the house of Irmengart. He seeks to seduce her, first by greetings, then by presents, then by bribing messengers, and at last by great offers. Finally, when he proffers her a thousand marks for one night, all the people in the house persuade her not to lose such a sum. She seeks protection with her nearest relatives, with her parents, and those of her husband; but even these, blinded by the gold, command her to accept the offer, and threaten her with the anger of her husband, when he returns and hears that he has lost such a sum for a whim of hers. Irmengart, at these counsels and threats, falls into the utmost despair. In this distress, she turns to God, who pities her goodness, and sends

Bertram now sends word to