“Last scene of all That ends this strange eventful history, The old man dies; and on the shoulders of his brethren, To the heavy knolled bells, is borne In love and sacred pity, through the gates Of the holy edifice of stone, where, all in white, The goodly vicar meets them and doth say:-- ‘I am the resurrection and the life;’ And then doth mount the pulpit stairs and doth begin:-- ‘O Lord, have mercy on us wretched sinners!’ The people answering cry as with one voice, ‘O Lord, have mercy on us wretched sinners!’ Then through the narrow winding churchway paths, With weary task foredone, under the shade Of melancholy boughs gently set down Their venerable burden, and from the presence Of the sun they lower him into the tomb.” The “eighth” age, it will be observed, is not an age at all, but a funeral. To this striking addition to one of Shakespeare’s best known passages, Bacon tacks on the whole of Hamlet’s soliloquy, “To be or not to be,” commencing with “To sleep, perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub;” helps himself to a pinch of Hamlet’s lines, “Oh, that this too solid flesh would melt,” acknowledges in the language of the King that “Our offence is rank, it smells to Heaven!” promises that ... “When our younger brothers’ play is done, We’ll play a comedy, my lord, wherein The players that come forth, will to the life present The pliant men that we as masks employ;” borrows from Hamlet’s advice to the players, and so-- “The curtain’s drawn. Begin.” The entire mosaic is the most unintelligible, inept, and exasperating mixture of pathos, bathos, and sheer drivel that has ever been claimed as the work of a learned, sane man. The first act opens outside the Queen’s hunting lodge. Elizabeth alludes to her hounds in the lines allotted by Shakespeare to Theseus (_A Midsummer Night’s Dream_), and has an interview with the Earl of Essex, who comes to bring news of the Irish rising; and Bacon, who remains mute during the entire scene. In the second scene, Essex and Mr. Secretary Cecil come to open rupture in the presence of the Queen. Cecil cries, in Shylock’s words, “Thou call’st me a dog before thou hast a cause, But since I am a dog, beware my fangs;” and Essex retorts, in the prayer of Richard II., “Now put it, _heaven_, in his physician’s mind To help him to his grave immediately! The lining of his coffers shall make coats To deck our soldiers for these Irish wars.” In the mouth of King Richard II., these words had some meaning, for it was the King’s intention to seize the possessions of old John of Gaunt after his demise, and Gaunt was on his death-bed. But Cecil is in excellent good health, and if he were likely to die not a shilling of his personalty would have reverted to the crown. If this was the original form in which Bacon composed the plays of Shakespeare, he was undoubtedly mad.