An examination of the charges maintained by messrs. Malone, Chalmers and others, of Ben Jonson's enmity ... towards Shakespeare

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1808
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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 58 - I loved the man, and do honour his memory, on this side idolatry, as much as any. He was (indeed) honest, and of an open and free nature; had an excellent phantasy, brave notions, and gentle expressions...
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.
Page 4 - Muses : For if I thought my judgment were of years, I should commit thee surely with thy peers, And tell how far thou didst our Lyly outshine. Or sporting Kyd, or Marlowe's mighty line.

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