```(Which, else, runs tickling up and down the veins"). --_King John, Act III, Scene 3._= {210} ```... As dear to me as are tlie ruddy drops ```That visit my sad heart." --_Julius Caesar, Act IT, Scene 1._= Harvey's discovery, however, is said to have been the theory of Galen, Paracelsus, and Hippocrates (who substituted the _liter_ for the _heart_), and to have been held also by Rabelais. Neither Galen, Paracelsus, Hippocrates, nor Rabelais was a text-book at Stratford grammar-school during the two terms Mr. De Quincy placed William Shakespeare as a pupil there--but William has them at his fingers' ends. There are said to be no less than seventy-eight passages in the plays wherein this fact of the circulation of the blood is distinctly alluded to; and, as to Galen and Paracelsus, they intrude themselves unrestrictedly all through the plays, without the slightest pretext or excuse:= ```"_Parolles_. So I say; both of Galen and Paracelsus. ```_Lafeu_. Of all the learned and authentic fellows." ````--_All's Well that Ends Well, Act II, Scene 3._= ```"_Host of the Garter Inn_. What says my Æsculapius? my Galen?" ````--Merry Wives of Windsor, Act II., Scene 3.= In King Henry VI. Part II., Act ii, Scene 2, the erudite Bardolph and Falstaff's classical page make a learned blunder about Althea, whom the page confounds with Hecuba. And so on. Are we to believe that this sometime butcher's boy and later stage manager has his head so brimming full of his old Greeks and philosophers that he can not for a moment miss their company, and makes his very panders and public-cans prate of them? Even if it were the commonest {211}thing in the world, nowadays, in 1881, for our Mr. Boucicault or Mr. Daly to write a play expressly to catch the taste of the canaille of the Old Bowery (or, for that matter, of the urbane and critical audiences of Wallack's or the Union Square), and stuff all the low-comedy parts with recondite and classical allusion (for this is precisely what William Shakespeare is said to have done for the unroofed play-house in the mud of the Bankside in London, some three hundred years ago or less, and to have coined a fortune at)--even, we say, if it were the simplest thing in the world to imagine this sort of play writing to-day, would it be a wilder flight of fancy to suggest a pale student in London in the days of Queen Elizabeth, somewhere among the garrets of Gray's Inn, writing dialogues into which Galen and Paracelsus would intrude unbidden--and a stage manager letting them stay there as doing no harm (or, may be, taking them for names, of dogs or wenches--at any rate, as good, mouth-filling words, to be paid for at the lowest market price): * than to conceive a twelfth manager and proprietor of this home of the Muses, and whilom sticker of calves, after the day's labor, shunning his cups and the ribald mirth-making of those sad dogs, his fellow {212}managers, to seek, in the solitude of