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appears Arion Aristophanes asserted bard Bartholomew fair bawds Beaumont Burbage censure Chal charges chorus clumsy sarcasm comedy commentators contemporary critic Dekker delight doth drama drolleries Drummond edition envy epigram exhibited fame favourite FLEET STREET folio following lines gentle Shakspeare George Steevens ghost Harry Goldingham hath Henry the Fifth Heywood hobby-horses honour Humour induction Inigo Jones invidious jigs John Marston Jonson's satire Leatherhead libel literary little Davy malignity Malone Malone's Marston masque memory ment mentators merit monsters mour muses Nash nature nest of antiques old plays opinion passage players poet-ape poet's Poetaster poets praise preface present printed prologue proof purpose reputation ridicule Satiromastix says scene Sejanus servant-monster Shak Shakspeare's Silent Woman Sir Philip Sidney sneer speak speare speare's stage Steevens Supplemental Apology supposed swords and bucklers take toll Tempest theatre theatrical representation thee tragedy truth verses Winter's Tale writings written
Page 4 - Triumph, my Britain! Thou hast one to show To whom all scenes of Europe homage owe. He was not of an age, but for all time...
Page 5 - Yet must I not give Nature all; thy Art, My gentle Shakespeare, must enjoy a part. For though the poet's matter Nature be, His art doth give the fashion. And that he Who casts to write a living line must sweat, (Such as thine are) and strike the second heat Upon the Muses...
Page 4 - Euripides, and Sophocles to us, Pacuvius, Accius, him of Cordova, dead, To life again, to hear thy buskin tread And shake a stage; or when thy socks were on, Leave thee alone for the comparison Of all that insolent Greece or haughty Rome Sent forth, or since did from their ashes come.
Page 3 - Above the ill fortune of them, or the need. I therefore will begin : Soul of the age ! The applause, delight, the wonder of our stage! My SHAKSPEARE, rise ! I will not lodge thee by Chaucer, or Spenser, or bid Beaumont lie A little further, to make thee a room : Thou art a monument without a tomb, And art alive still while thy book doth live, And we have wits to read, and praise to give.
Page 36 - If there be never a Servant Monster in the Fair, who can help it ? he says ; nor a nest of Antiques? He is loth to make Nature afraid in his Plays, like those that beget Tales, Tempests, and such like Drolleries...
Page 4 - The applause! delight! the wonder of our stage! My Shakespeare, rise ; I will not lodge thee by Chaucer, or Spenser, or bid Beaumont lie A little further, to make thee a room : Thou art a monument, without a tomb, And art alive still, while thy book doth live, And we have wits to read, and praise to give.
Page 5 - Shine forth, thou Star of Poets, and with rage, Or influence, chide or cheer the drooping stage, Which, since thy flight from hence, hath mourned like night, And despairs day but for thy volume's light.
Page 3 - To draw no envy, Shakespeare, on thy name, Am I thus ample to thy book and fame ; While I confess thy writings to be such, As neither man, nor muse, can praise too much, 'Tis true, and all men's suffrage.