dered the plots of their predecessors as unblushingly as we now prey on those of our Gallic contemporaries. In the nine dramatic pieces which he has left behind him, he borrowed from Ben Jonson, Fletcher, Dekker, and others—besides his alteration of Shakespeare. They had no brilliant success—more than one was a decided failure, but others were frequently played and remained stock pieces. His "Duke and no Duke," was last played at the Haymarket, in 1797. Into his "Richard II." Tate introduced some songs, one of which is the following:
"Retired from any mortal's sight,
The pensive Damon lay,
He blest the discontented night,
And cursed the smiling day:
The tender sharers of his pain,
His flocks no longer graze,
But sadly fixed around the swain,
Like silent mourners gaze.
"He heard the musick of the wood,
And with a sigh reply'd;
He saw the fish sport in the flood,
And wept a deeper tide.
In vain the summer bloom came on,
For still the drooping swain,
Like autumn winds was heard to groan,
Outwept the winter's rain.
"Some ease, said he, some respite give.
Ah, mighty powers! Ah, why
Am I too much distress'd to live,
And yet forbid to die?
Such accents from the shepherd flew,
Whilst on the ground he lay,
At last so deep a sigh he drew,
As bore his life away."
A song in "Cuckold's Haven" supplied Charles II. with a quotation, on an occasion mentioned by Mr. P. Cuningham in his charming story of "Nell Gwynne." The King was dining at the Guildhall. The courtiers and
