In the plot and incidents of this play, Shakespeare followed very closely the Pandosto, or, as it was sometimes called, the Dorastus and Fawnia, of Robert Greene.  This novel appears to have been one of the most popular books of the time; there being no less than fourteen old editions of it known, the first of which was in 1588.  Greene was a scholar, a man of some genius, Master of Arts in both the Universities, and had indeed much more of learning than of judgment in the use and application of it.  For it seems as if he could not write at all without overloading his pages with classical allusion, nor hit upon any thought so trite and commonplace, but that he must run it through a series of aphoristic sentences twisted out of Greek and Roman lore.  In this respect, he is apt to remind one of his fellow-dramatist, Thomas Lodge, whose Rosalynd contributed so much to the Poet’s As You Like It:  for it was then much the fashion for authors to prank up their matter with superfluous erudition.  Like all the surviving works of Greene, Pandosto is greatly charged with learned impertinence, and in the annoyance thence resulting one is apt to overlook the real merit of the performance.  It is better than Lodge’s Rosalynd for this reason, if for no other, that it is shorter.  I must condense so much of the tale as may suffice to indicate the nature and extent of the Poet’s obligations.

Pandosto, King of Bohemia, and Egistus, King of Sicilia, had passed their boyhood together, and grown into a mutual friendship which kept its hold on them long after coming to their crowns.  Pandosto had for his wife a very wise and beautiful lady named Bellaria, who had made him the father of a prince called Garinter in whom both himself and his people greatly delighted.  After many years of separation, Egistus “sailed into Bohemia to visit his old friend,” who, hearing of his arrival, went with a great train of lords and ladies to meet him, received him very lovingly, and wished his wife to welcome him.  No pains were spared to honour the royal visitor and make him feel at home.  Bellaria, “to show how much she liked him whom her husband loved,” treated Egistus with great confidence, often going herself to his chamber to see that nothing should be amiss.  This honest familiarity increased from day to day, insomuch that when Pandosto was busy with State affairs they would walk into the garden and pass their time in pleasant devices.  After a while, Pandosto began to have doubtful thoughts, considering the beauty of his wife, and the comeliness and bravery of his friend.  This humour growing upon him, he went to watching them, and fishing for proofs to confirm his suspicions.  At length his mind got so charged with jealousy that he felt quite certain of the thing he feared, and studied for nothing so much as revenge.  He resolved to work by poison, and called upon his cup-bearer, Franion, to execute the scheme, and pressed