Now it appears that Shakespeare not only had that various commerce with, and experience of men, which was common both to Goethe and to Scott, but also that he agrees with the latter rather than with the former in the kind and species of that experience. He was not merely with men, but of men; he was not a ‘thing apart,’ with a clear intuition of what was in those around him; he had in his own nature the germs and tendencies of the very elements that he described. He knew what was in man, for he felt it in himself. Throughout all his writings you see an amazing sympathy with common people, rather an excessive tendency to dwell on the common features of ordinary lives. You feel that common people could have been cut out of him, but not without his feeling it; for it would have deprived him of a very favourite subject—of a portion of his ideas to which he habitually recurred. ‘_Leon._ What would you with me, honest neighbour? _Dog._ Marry, sir, I would have some confidence with you, that decerns you nearly. _Leon._ Brief, I pray you; for you see ’tis a busy time with me. _Dog._ Marry, this it is, sir. _Verg._ Yes, in truth it is, sir. _Leon._ What is it, my good friends? _Dog._ Goodman Verges, sir, speaks a little off the matter: an old man, sir, and his wits are not so blunt, as, God help, I would desire they were; but, in faith, honest as the skin between his brows. _Verg._ Yes, I thank God, I am as honest as any man living, that is an old man, and no honester than I. _Dog._ Comparisons are odorous:—_palabras_, neighbour Verges. _Leon._ Neighbours, you are tedious. _Dog._ It pleases your worship to say so, but we are the poor duke’s officers; but, truly, for mine own part, if I were as tedious as a king, I could find in my heart to bestow it all of your worship. ... _Leon._ I would fain know what you have to say. _Verg._ Marry, sir, our watch to-night, excepting your worship’s presence, have ta’en a couple of as arrant knaves as any in Messina. _Dog._ A good old man, sir; he will be talking; as they say, When the age is in, the wit is out; God help us! it is a world to see!—Well said, i’faith, neighbour Verges:—well, God’s a good man; an two men ride of a horse, one must ride behind:—An honest soul, i’faith, sir; by my troth he is, as ever broke bread; but God is to be worshipped: All men are not alike; alas, good neighbour! _Leon._ Indeed, neighbour, he comes too far short of you. _Dog._ Gifts that God gives,’—&c. &c. * * * * * ‘_Stafford._ Ay, sir. _Cade._ By her he had two children at one birth. _Staff._ That’s false.