it in his own works, especially in “Coriolanus,” “Julius Caesar,” and “Antony and Cleopatra.”  It was from the worthy knight’s folio that he got much of his little Latin and less Greek.  He helped himself freely to what was to his purpose; and a comparison of the passages which he borrowed from with the scenes founded upon them is interesting, as showing his use of the very words of the author before him, and as exhibiting the new appearances which those words take on under his plastic hand.  We have no space for long extracts; but a short illustration will serve to show that Shakespeare is the best translator of Plutarch into English that we have had.  Compare these two passages:—­

“Therefore, when she [Cleopatra] was sent unto by divers letters, both from Antonius himself and also from his friends, she made so light of it, and mocked Antonius so much, that she disdained to set forward otherwise, but to take her barge in the river of Cydnus; the poop whereof was of gold, the sails of purple, and the oars of silver, which kept stroke in rowing after the sound of the musick of flutes, bowboys, citherns, viols, and such other instruments as they played upon in the barge.  And now for the person of herself, she was laid under a pavillion of cloth of gold of tissue, apparelled and attired like the goddess Venus, commonly drawn in picture; and hard by her, on either hand of her, pretty fair boys apparelled as painters do set forth god Cupid, with little fans in their hands, with which they fanned wind upon her.  Her ladies and gentlewomen also, the fairest of them were apparelled like the Nymphs Nereides (which are the Myrmaids of the waters) and like the Graces; some steering the helm, others tending the tackle and ropes of the barge, out of the which there came a wonderful passing sweet savour of perfumes, that perfumed the wharf’s side, pestered with innumerable multitudes of people.  Some of them followed the barge all along the river side; others also ran out of the city to see her coming in.  So that in the end there ran such multitudes of people one after another to see her, that Antonius was left post alone in the market-place, in his imperial seat to give audience.”—­NORTH’S Plutarch, Life of Antonius, p. 763.  Ed. of 1676.

Enobarbus. When she first met Mark Antony, she pursed up his heart upon the river of Cydnus.

Agrippa. There she appeared, indeed; or my reporter devised well for her.

Eno. I will tell you.  The barge she sat in, like a burnish’d throne, Burnt on the water:  the poop was beaten gold; Purple the sails, and so perfumed that The winds were lovesick; with them the oars were silver, Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made The water, which they beat, to follow faster, As amorous of their strokes.  For her own person, It beggar’d all description:  she did lie In her pavilion, (cloth of gold, of tissue,) O’er-picturing that Venus where we see The fancy outwork Nature:  on each side her Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids, With divers-color’d fans, whose wind did seem To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool, And what they undid, did.

  Agr. Oh, rare for Antony!