If any man ask, Who lies in this tomb? Oh! ho! quoth the devil, 'tis my John-a-Combe. But the sharpness of the fatyr is faid to have ftung the man fo feverely, that he never forgave it. He died in the fifty-third year of his age, and was buried on the north-fide of the chancel, in the great church at Stratford; where a monument is placed in the wall. On his grave-ftone underneath is, Good friend, for Jefus' fake forbear Bless'd be the man that spares thefe ftones He had three daughters, of which two liv'd to be married; Judith, the elder, to one Mr Thomas Quiney, by whom she had three fons, who all died without children; and Sufannahı, who was his favourite, to Dr John Hall, a phyfician of good reputation in that country. She left one child only, a daughter, who was married first to Thomas Nash, Efq; and afterwards to Sir John Bernard of Abbington, but died likewise without iffue. This is what I could learn of any note, either relating to himself or family. The character of the man is best seen in his writings. But fince Ben Johnfon has made a fort of an effay towards it in his Discoveries, I will give it in his words. "I remember the players have often mentioned it as * an honour to Shakespear, that in writing, whatsoever he penned, he never blotted out a line. My "answer hath been, Would he had blotted a thousand! "which they thought a malevolent fpeech. I had not "told posterity this, but for their ignorance, who chose "that circumftance to commend their friend by, where"in he most faulted; and to justify mine own candour; " for I loved the man, and do honour his memory, on "this fide idolatry, as much as any. He was indeed "honeft, and of an open and free nature: had an ex"cellent fancy, brave notions, and gentle expreffions; "wherein he flowed with that facility, that fometimes it was neceffary he should be ftopped: Sufflaminandus 66 erat, as Auguftus faid of Haterius. His wit was in "his own power, would the rule of it had been fo too. "Many times he fell into thofe things which could not efcape laughter; as when he said in the perfon of Cx"far, one fpeaking to him, 66 66 "He replied, Cafar, thou doft me wrong. Cæfar did never wrong, but with just cause*. "and fuch like, which were ridiculous. But he re"deemed his vices with his virtues: there was ever more in him to be praised than to be pardoned." As for the paffage which he mentions out of Shakefpear, there is fomewhat like it in Julius Cæfar, but without the abfurdity; nor did I ever meet with it in any edition that I have feen, as quoted by Mr Johnson. Befides his plays in this edition, there are two or three afcribed to him by Mr Langbain, which I have never feen, and know nothing of. He writ likewife Venus and Adonis, and Tarquin and Lucrece, in ftanza's, which have been' printed in a late collection of poems. As to the character given of him by Ben Johnson, there is a good deal true in it: but I believe it may be as well expreffed by what Horace fays of the first Romans, who wrote tragedy upon the Greek models, (or indeed tranflated them), in his epiftle to Auguftus. * If ever there was fuch a line written by Shakespear, I should fancy it might have its place, vol. 7. p. 44. after liue 32. thus: Cafar has had great wrong. 3 Pleb. Cafar had never wrong, but with just cause. and very humorously in the character of a Plebeian. One might believe Ben Johnson's remark was made upon no better credit than fome blunder of an actor in speaking that verfe near the beginning of the third act, p. 34. 1. 41. 42. Know, Cefir doth not wrong; nor without caufe But the verfe, as cited by Ben Johnson, does not connect with Natura fublimis & acer, Nam fpirat tragicum fatis & feliciter audet, Sed turpem putat in chartis metuitque lituram. As I have not propofed to myfelf to enter into a large and compleat collection upon Shakefpear's works, fo I will only take the liberty, with all due fubmiffion to the judgment of others, to obferve fome of thofe things I have been pleased with in looking him over. His plays are properly to be diftinguished only into comedies and tragedies. Thofe which are called hiftories, and even fome of his comedies, are really tragedies, with a run or mixture of comedy amongst them. That way of tragi-comedy was the common mistake of that age; and is indeed become fo agreeable to the English tafte, that though the feverer critics among us cannot bear it, yet the generality of our audiences feem to be better pleafed with it than with an exact tragedy. The merry wives of Windfor, The comedy of errors, and The taming of the fhrew, are all pure comedy; the rest, however they are called, have fomething of both kinds. 'Tis not very easy to determine which way of writing he was moft excellent in. There is certainly a great deal of entertainment in his comical humours; and though they did not then ftrike at all ranks of people, as the fatyr of the prefent age has taken the liberty to do; yet there is a pleafing and a well-diftinguished variety in thofe characters which he thought fit to meddle with. Falftaff is allowed by every body to be a masterpiece. The character is always well fuftained, though drawn out into the length of three plays: and even the account of his death, given by his old landlady Mrs Quickly, in the first act of Henry V. though it be extremely natural, is yet as diverting as any part of his life. If there be any fault in the draught he has made of this lewd old fellow, it is, that though he has made him a thief, lying, cowardly, vain-glorious, and in fhort every way vicious, yet he has given him fo much wit as to make him almoft too agreeable; and I don't know whether fome people have not, in remembrance of the diverfion he had formerly afforded them, been forry to fee his friend Hal ufe him fo fcurvily, when he comes to the crown in the end of the second part of Henry IV. Amongst other extravagances, in The merry wives of Windfor, he has made him a deer-ftealer, that he might at the fame time remember his Warwickshire profecutor, under the name of Juftice Shallow. He has given him very near the fame coat of arms which Dugdale, in his antiquities of that county, defcribes for a family there, and makes the Welsh parfon defcant very pleafantly upon them. That whole play is admirable; the humours are various, and well oppofed: the main defign, which is to cure Ford of his unreasonable jealousy, is extremely well conducted. In Twelfth night there is fomething fingularly ridiculous and pleasant in the fantaftical steward Malvolio. The parafite and the vainglorious in Parolles, in All's well that ends well, is as good as any thing of that kind in Plautus or Terence. Petruchio, in The taming of the fhrew, is an uncommon piece of humour. The converfation of Benedick and Beatrice, in Much ado about nothing, and of Rofalind in As you like it, have much wit and sprightlinefs all along. His clowns, without which character there was hardly any play writ in that time, are all very entertaining: and I believe Therfites in Troilus and Creffida, and Apemantus in Timon, will be allowed to be masterpieces of ill-nature and fatyrical fnarling. To thefe I might add that incomparable character of Shylock the Jew, in The merchant of Venice. But though we have seen that play received and acted as a comedy, and the part of the Jew performed by an excellent comedian, yet I cannot but think it was defigned tragically by the author. There appears in it fuch a deadly fpirit of revenge, fuch a favage fiercenefs and fellness, and fuch a bloody defignation of cruelty and mischief, as cannot agree either with the ftyle or characters of comedy. The play itfelf, take it altogether, feems to me to be one of the moft finished of any of Shakespear's. The tale indeed, in that part relating to the caskets, and the extravagant and unufual kind of bond given by Antonio, is too much removed from the rules of probability. But, taking the fact for granted, we must allow it to be very beautifully written. There is fomething in the friendhip of Antonio to Baffanio very great, generous, and tender. The whole fourth act (fuppofing, as I faid, the fact to be probable) is extremely fine. But there are two paffages that deferve a particular notice. The first is, what Portia says in praise of mercy, and the other on the power of mufic. The melancholy of Jaques, in As you like it, is as fingular and odd as it is diverting. And if, what Horace fays, Difficile eft proprie communia dicere, it will be a hard task for any one to go beyond him in the defcription of the feveral degrees and ages of man's life, though the thought be old, and common enough. All the world is a ftage, And all the men and women merely players; Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, Is fecond childishness, and mere oblivion, VOL. I. d |