What are we to say respecting the frontispiece to the 1898 edition of what he is pleased to describe as the "Life of William Shakespeare," which Mr. Sidney Lee tells us is "from the 'Droeshout' painting now in the Shakespeare Memorial Gallery at Stratford-on-Avon"?

As a matter of fact there is no "Droeshout" painting. The picture falsely so called is a manifest forgery and a palpable fraud, for in it all the revealing marks of the engraving by Martin Droeshout which appeared in the 1623 folio are purposely omitted. A full size photo facsimile of Martin Droeshout's engraving is shewn in Plate 8, pp. 20-21. In the false and fraudulent painting we find no double line to shew the mask, and the coat is really a coat and not a garment cunningly composed of two left arms.

Still it does seem singularly appropriate and peculiarly fitting that Mr. Sidney Lee should have selected as the frontispiece of the romance which he calls the "Life" of Shakespeare, an engraving of the false and fraudulent painting now in the Stratford-on-Avon Gallery for his first edition of 1898; and should also have selected an engraving of the false and fraudulent monument now in Stratford-on-Avon Church as the frontispiece for his first Illustrated Library Edition of 1899.

Mr. Sidney Lee is aware of the fact that Martin Droeshout was only fifteen years old when the Stratford actor died. But it is possible that he may not know that (in addition to the Shakespeare Mask which Droeshout drew for the frontispiece of the 1623 folio edition of the Plays of Shakespeare, in order to reveal, to those who were able to understand, the true facts of the Authorship of those plays), Martin Droeshout also drew frontispieces for other books, which may be similarly correctly characterised as cunningly composed, in order to reveal the true facts of the authorship of such works, unto those who were capable of grasping the hidden meaning of his engravings.

One other point it is worth while referring to. The question is frequently asked, if Bacon wrote under the name of Shakespeare, why so carefully conceal the fact? An answer is readily supplied by a little anecdote related by Ben Jonson, which was printed by the Shakespeare Society in 1842, in their "Notes of Ben Jonson's conversations with William Drummond of Hawthornden".

"He [Ben Jonson] was dilated by Sir James Murray to the King, for writting something against the Scots, in a play Eastward Hoe, and voluntarly imprissonned himself with Chapman and Marston who had written it amongst them. The report was that they should then [have] had their ears cut and noses. After their delivery, he banqueted all his friends; there was Camden, Selden, and others; at the midst of the feast his old Mother dranke to him, and shew him a paper which she had (if the sentence had taken execution) to have mixed in the prisson among his drinke, which was full of lustie strong poison, and that she was no churle, she told, she was minded first to have drunk of it herself."

This was in 1605, and it is a strange and grim illustration of the dangers that beset men in the Highway of Letters.

It was necessary for Bacon to write under pseudonyms to conceal his identity, but he intended that at some time posterity should do him justice and it was for this purpose that, among the numerous clues he supplied to reveal himself he wrote "The Tempest" in its present form, which Emile Montegut writing in the Revue des Deux Mondes in 1865 declared to be the author's literary Testament.

The Island is the Stage. Prospero the prime Duke, the great Magician, represents the Mighty Author who says "my brother ... called Anthonio who next thyself of all the world I lov'd" ... "graves at my command have wak'd their sleepers op'd and let them forth by my so potent Art" ...

"and deeper than ever plummet sound
He drown my booke."