We now come to a play (leaves 161-185), without title, and wanting some leaves at the end, on the subject of Richard the Second. I think with Mr. Halliwell-Phillipps, who printed eleven copies of this piece, that it is anterior to Shakespeare's play. There is less extravagance of language than in most of the plays belonging to that early date (circ. 1593?); and the blank verse, though it is monotonous enough, has perhaps rather more variety than we should expect to find. Much of the play is taken up with _Greene_ and _Baggott_; but the playwright has chiefly exerted himself in representing the murder of _Woodstock_ at Calais. Before the murder, _Woodstock_ falls asleep, and there appears to him the ghost of the _Black Prince_: ... Oh I am nought but ayre: Had I the vigour of my former strength When thou beheldst me fight at _Cressy_ feild, Wher hand to hand I tooke King _John_ of _France_ And his bould sonns my captive prisoners, Ide shake these stiff supporters of thy bed And dragg thee from this dull securyty. Oh yett for pittye wake; prevent thy doome; Thy blood upon my sonne will surely come: For which, deere brother _Woodstocke_, haste and fly, Prevent his ruein and thy tragedy. [_Exit Ghoste_. Undisturbed by this appeal, _Woodstock_ slumbers on. Then enters the ghost of _Edward the Third_. His speech is worthy of Robert Greene:-- Sleepst thou so soundly and pale death so nye? _Thomas_ of _Woodstocke_, wake my sone and fly. Thy wrongs have roused thy royall fathers ghost, And from his quiat grave king _Edwards_ come To guard thy innocent life, my princely sonne. Behould me heere, sometymes faire _Englands_ lord: (7) warlicke sonnes I left, yett being gone No one succeeded in my kingly throne, &c. I will not inflict more of this stuff on the reader. Suffice it to say that _Woodstock_ wakes in terror and calls aloud. _Lapoole_, the governor of the city, who is close at hand with two murderers, enters and comforts him. Here the playwright shows a touch of pathos:-- Good nyght, _Lapoole_, and pardon me, I prethee, That my sadd feare made question of thy faith. My state is fearefull and my mynd was troubled Even at thy entrance with most fearefull vissions Which made my passiones more extreame and hastye. Out of my better judgment I repent itt And will reward thy love: once more, good nyght. Now follows the _Lady Mother_ (leaves 186-211), which I have proved to be a play of Glapthorne's. No doubt it is the same piece as the _Noble Trial_, entered on the Stationers' Registers, June 29, 1660, but not printed.