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decease the said stock and consideration to be | five pounds; and to Francis Collins * of the paid to her children, if she have any, and if borough of Warwick, gent, thirteen pounds six not, to her executors or assigns, she living the shillings and eight-pence, to be paid within said term after my decease : provided that if one year after my decease. such husband as she shall at the end of the said three years be married unto, or at any [time] Item, I give and bequeath to Hamlet (Hamafter, do sufliciently assure unto her, and the nel] Sadler f twenty-six shillings eight-pence, issue of her body, lands answerable to the to buy him a ring; to William Reynolds, gent. portion by this my will given unto her, and to twenty-six shillings eight-pence, to buy him a be adjuged so by my executors and overseers, ring; lo my godson, William Walker, lwenty Then my will is, that the said hundred and fifty shillings in gold; to Anthony Nash , S gent. pounds shall be paid to such husband as shall twenty six-shillings eight-pence; and to Mr. make such assurance, to his own use.

John Nash, ** twenty-six shillings eight-pence;

and to my fellows, John Heminge, Richard Item, I give and bequeath unto my said

Burbage, and Henry Cundell, ++ lwenty-six sister Joan lwenty pounds, and all my wearing

shillings eight-pence apiece, to buy them apparel, to be paid and delivered within one

rings. year after my decease; and I do will and devise unto her the house, with the appartenances, in Stratford, whereing she dwelleth, for her natural life, under the yearly rent of twelve- not been able to discover. I have taken the

trouble to ascertain the ages of Shakspeare's pence.

friends and relations, and the time of their deaths, Item, I give and bequeath unto her three because we are thus enabled to judge how far sons, William Hart, — Hart," and Michael the traditions concerning him which were com

municated to Mr. Rowe in the beginning of this Hart, five pounds a piece, to be paid within

century, are worthy of credit. Malone. one year after my decease.

to Francis Collins, This gentleman, Item, I give and bequeath unto the said

I believe, baptized at Warwick. He died Elizabeth Hall all my plate (except my broad ford, Sept. 27, 1617, on which day he died. Ma

the year after our poet, and was buried at Stratsilver and gilt bowl t), that I now have at the lone, edit. 1821. date of this my will.

+ to Hamnet Sadler,] This gentleman was Item, 1 give and bequeath unto the poor of godfather to Shakspeare's only son, who was called

after him. Mr. Sadler, I believe, was born about Stralford aforesaid ten pounds ; lo Mr. Thomas the year 1550, and died at Stratford-upon-Avon, in Combe & my sword; 10 Thomas Russel, esq. October, 1624. His wife, Judith Sadler, who was

godmother to Shakspeare's youngest daughter, was

buried there, March 23, 1613-14. Our poet proHart,) It is singular that neither Shak: bably was godfather to their son William, who speare nor any of liis family should have recollected

was baptized at Stratford, Feb. 5, 1597-8. MAthe Christian name of his nephew who was born at Stratford but eleven years before the making of his will. His Christian name was Thomas ; the son of Henry Walker, was baptized at Strat

to my godson, William Walker,] William, and he was baptized in that town, July 24. 1605. ford, Oct. 16, 1608. I mention this circumstance, MALONE.

because it ascertains that our author was at his + --ercept my broad silver and gilt bowl.] native town in the autumn of that year. Mr. Wil. This bowl, as we afterwards find, our poet be- liam Walker was buried at Stratford, March 1, queathed to bis daughter Judith.

1679-80. MALONE. Mr. Thomas Combe,] This gentleman was baptized at Stratford, Feb. 9. 1588-9, so that he Mr. Thomas Nash, who married our poet's grand

$ - to Anthony Nash,] He was father of was twenty-seven years old at the time of Shak- daughter, Elizabeth Hall. He lived, I believe, at speare's death, He died at Stratford in July, 1657, Welcombe, where his estate lay; and was buried aged 68; and his elder brother William died at the same place, Jan. 30, 1666-7, aged 80. Mr.

at Stratford, Nov. 18, 1622. MALONE. Thomas Combe by his will, made June 20, 1656,

-- to Mr. John Nash,) This gentleman died directed his executors to convert all his personal at Stratford, and was buried there, Nov. 10, property into money, and to lay it out in the pur

1623. MALONE. chase of lands, to be settled on William Combe, 十一 - To my fellows,John Hemynge, Richard the eldest son of John Combe of Allchurch in Burbage, and Henry Cundell,] These our poet's the county of Worcester, gent. and his heirs-male ; fellows did not very long survive him. Burbage remainder to his two brothers successively. Where, died in March, 1619; Cundell in December, 1627 ; Therefore, out poet's sword has wandered, I have and Heminge in October, 1623. Malone,



Ilem, I give, will, bequeath, and devise, sanna Hall, for and during the term of ber unto my daughter, Susanna Hall, for better natural life; and after her decease to the first enabling of her lo perform this my will, and son of her body lawfully issuing, and to the lowards the performance thereof, all that heirs-males of the body of the said first son capital messuage or tenement, with the appur- lawfully issuing; and for default of such issue, tenances, in Stralford aforesaid, called The to the second son of her body lawfully issuing, New Place, wherein I now dwell, and two and to the heirs-males of the body of the said messuages or tenements, with the appurtenances, second son lawfully issuing; and for default of situate, lying, and being, in Henley-street, such heirs, to the third son of the body of the within the borough of Stratford aforesaid ; and said Susanna lawfully issuing, and to the heirsall my barns, stables, orchards, gardens, lands, males of the body of the said third son lawfully lenements, and hereditaments whatsoever, si- issuing; and for default of such issue, the same tuate, lying, and being, or to be bad, received, so to be and remain to the fourth, fifth, sixth, perceived, or taken, within the towns, hamlels, and seventh sons of her body, lawfully issuing villages, fields, and grounds of Stratford- one after another, and to the beirs-males of the upon-Avon, Old Stratford, Bishopton, and bodies of the said fourth, fish, sixth, and seventh Welcombe, * or in any of them, in the said sons lawfully issuing, in such manner as it is county of Warwick; and also all that messuage before limited to be and remain to the first, or tenement, with the appurtenances, wherein second, and third sons of her body, and to their one John Robinson dwelleth, situate, lying, beirs-males; and for default of such issue, the and being in the Blakfriars in London near said premises to be and remain to my said niece the Wardrobe ; † and all other my lands, tene- Hall, and the heirs-males of her body lawfully ments, and hereditaments whatsoever : to have issuing; and for default of such issue, to my and to hold all and singular the said premises, daughter Judith, and the heirs-males of her with their appurtepances, unto the said Su- body lawfully issuing; and for default of such

issue, to the right heirs of me the said William Ou Stratford, Bishoplon, and Welcombe.]

Shakspeare for ever. The lands of Old Stratford, Bishopton, and Wel- Item, I give unto my wife my second best combe, here devised, were, in Shakspeare's time, bed, with the furniture.* a continuation of one large field, all in the parish of Stratford. Bishopton is two miles from Strat- Item, I give and bequeath to my said ford, and Welcombe one. For Bishoplon, Mr. daughter, Judith, my broad silver gilt bowl. Theobald erroneously printed Busharton, and the all the rest of my goods, challels, leases, plate, Error has been continued in all the subsequent editions. The word in Shakspeare's original will jewels, and household stus whatsoever, after is spelt Bushopton, the vulgar pronunciation of my debts and legacies paid, and my funeral Bishopton. I searched the Indexes in the Rolls Chapel from to my son-in-law, John Hall, gent, and my

expenses discharged, I give, devise, and bequeath the year 1589 to 1616, with the hope of finding an enrolment of the purchase-deed of the estate daughler, Susanna, his wife, whom I ordain here devised by our poet, and of ascertaining its and make executors of this my last will and extent and value ; but it was not enrolled during testament. And I do entreat and appoint the that period, nor could I find any inquisition taken said Thomas Russell, esq. and Francis Collins, after his death, by which its value might have been ascertained. I suppose it was conveyed by gent. lo be overseers bereof. And do revoke the former owner to Shakspeare, not by bargain and sale, but by a deed of feoffinent which it was not necessary to enroll. MALONE.

my second best bed, wilh the furniture.) t- that messuage or tenementin the Black Thus Shakspeare's original will. friars in London, near the Wardrobe ;) This It appears, in the original will of Shakspeare was the house which was mortgaged to Henry (now in the Prerogative-office, Doctors Commons),

that he had forgot his wife; the legacy to her being By the Wardrobe is meant the King's Great expressed by an interlineation, as well as those to Wardrobe, a royal house, near Puddle-Wharf, Heminge, Burbage, and Cundell. purchased by King Edward the Third from sir The will is written on three sheets of paper, the John Beauchamp, who built it. King Richard III. last two of which are undoubtedly subscribed with was lodged in this house, in the second year of Shakspeare's own hand. The first indeed has his his reign. See Stowe's Survey, p. 693, edit. 1618. name in the margin, but it differs somewhat in After the fire of London this office was kept in spelling as well as manner, from the two signatures Savoy : but it is now abolished. Malone. that follow.


all former wills, and publish this lo be my last hereunto put my hand, the day and year first will and testainent. In witness wbereof I have above written.

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On William Shakspeare, who died in April, 1616. Triumph, my Britain ! thou hast one to show, RENOWNED Spenser, lic a thought more nigh

To whom all scenes of Europe homage owe.

He was not of an age, but for all time;
To leamed Chaucer; and rare Beaumont, lie

And all the muses still were in their prime,
A little nearer Spenser, to make room
For Shakspeare, in your three-fold, four-fold tomb,

When like Apollo he came forth to warm

Our ears, or like a Mercury to charm.
To lodge all four in one bed make a shift
Catil doomsday; for hardly will a fift

Nature herself was proud of his designs,

And joy'd to wear the dressing of his lines; Betwixt this day and that by fate be slain,

Which were so richly spun, and woven so fit, For whom your curtains may be drawn again.

As, since, she will vouchsafe no other wit: But if precedency in death doth bar A fourth place in your sacred sepulchre,

The merry Greek, tart Aristophanes, Cader this carved marble of thine own,

Neat Terence, witty Plautus, now not please ;

But antiquated and deserted lie,
Sleep, rare tragedian, Shakspeare, sleep alone.

As they were not of Nature's family.
Thy unmolested peace, unshared cave,
Possess, as lord, not tenant, of thy grave;

Yet must I not give Nature all; thy art,
That unto us and others it may be

My gentle Shakspeare, must enjoy a part:

For though the poet's matter nature be,
Honour hereafter to be laid by thee.

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 To the Memory of my Beloved the Author, Upon the muses' anvil ; turn the same, Mr. William Shakspeare, and what he halh left us. (And himself with it) that he thinks to frame;

Or, for the laurel, he may gain a scorn,To draw no envy, Shakspeare, on thy name, For a good poet's made, as well as born: Am I thus ample to thy book, and fame;

And such wert thou. Look, how the father's face While I confess thy writings to be such,

Lives in his issue; even so the race As neither man, nor muse, can praise too much; Of Shakspeare's mind, and manners, brightly shines 'Tis true, and all men's suffrage: but these ways In his well-turned and true-filed lines; Were not the paths I meant unto thy praise : In each of which he seems to shake a lance, For seeliest ignorance on these may light,

As brandish'd at the eyes of ignorance. Which, when it sounds at best, but echoes right ; Sweet swan of Avon, what a sight it were, Or blind affection, which doth ne'er advance To see thee in our waters yet appear; The truth, but gropes, and urgeth all by chance; And make those flights upon the banks of Thames, Ot crafty malice might pretend this praise, That so did take Eliza, and our James ! And think to ruin, where it seem'd to raise : But stay; I see thee in the hemisphere These are, as some infamous bawd, or whore Advanc'd, and made a constellation there :Should praise a matron; what could hurt her more? Shine forth, thou star of poets; and with rage, But thou art proof against them; and, indeed, Or influence, chide, or cheer, the drooping stage; Above the ill fortune of them, or the need;

Which, since thy flight from hence, hath moura'd I, therefore, will begin :-Soul of the age,

like night, The applause, delight, the wonder of our stage, My Shakspeare, rise! I will not lodge thee by

And despairs day, but for thy volume's light!

BEN JONSON. Chaucer, or Spenser; or bid Beaumont lie A little further, to make thee a room : Thou art a monument without a tomb;

Upon the Lines and Life of the famous Scenic And art alive still, while thy book doth live,

Poet, Master William Shakspeare
And we have wits to read, and praise to give.
That I not mix thee so, my brain excuses ;

Those hands which you so clapp'd, go now and I mean, with great but disproportion'd muses :

wring, For, if I thought my judgment were of years,

You Britains brave ; for done are Shakspeare's days; I bould commit thee surely with thy peers;

His days are done that made the dainty plays, And tell-how far thou didst our Lyly outshine, Which made the globe of heaven and earth to ring: Or sporting Kyd, or Marlowe's mighty line. Dry'd is that vein, dry'd is the Thespian spring, And though thou hadst small Latin, and less Greek, Turn'd all to tears, and Phæbus clouds his rays; From thence to honour thee, I would not seek That corpse, that coffin, now bestic those bays, For names; but call forth thund'ring Æschylus,

Which crown'd him poet first, then poet's king. Euripides, and Sophocles, to us,

If tragedies might any prologue have, Pacuvius, Accius, 'him of Cordoua dead,

All those he made would scarce make one to this ; To life again, to hear thy buskin tread

Where fame, now that he gone is to the grave, And shake a stage; or, when thy socks were on, (Death's public tiring-house) the Nuntius is : Leare thee alone ; for the comparison

For, though his line of life went soon about, Of all that insolent Greece, or haughty Rome, The life yet of his lines shall never out. Seat forth, or since did from their ashes come.



To the Memory of the deceased Author, Master Both weep and smile ; fearful at plots so sad, William Shakspeare.

Then laughing at our fear; abus'd, and glad

To be abus'd; affected with that truth Shakspeare, at length thy pious fellows give

Which we perceive is false, pleas'd in that ruth The world thy works; thy works, by which outlive At which we start, and, by elaborate play, Thy tomb, thy name must: when that stone is rent, Tortur'd and tickl'd; by a crab-like way And time dissolves thy Stratford monument, Time past made pastime, and in ugly sort Here we alive shall view thee still; this book, Disgorging up his ravin for our sport: When brass and marble fade, shall make thee look-While the plebeian imp, from lofty throne, Fresh to all ages, when posterity

Creates and rules a world, and works upon Shall loath what's new, think all is prodigy Mankind by secret engines; now to move That is not Shakspeare's, every line, each verse, A chilling pity, then a rigorous love; Here shall revive, redeem thee from thy herse. To strike up and stroke down, both joy and ire; Nor fire, nor cank'ring age,-as Naso said To steer the affections; and by heavenly fire Of his,-thy wit-fraught book sball once invade: Mold us anew, stoln from ourselves : Nor shall I e'er believe or think thee dead,

This,-and much more, which cannot be express'd Though miss'd, until our bankrout stage be sped But by himself, his tongue, and his own breast,(Impossible) with some new strain to out-do Was Shakspeare's freehold; which his cunning brain Passions “ of Juliet, and her Romeo ;"

Improv'd by favour of the nine-fold train ; Or till I hear a scene more nobly take,

The buskind muse, the comick queen, the grand
Than when thy half-sword parlying Romans spake: And louder tone of Clio, nimble hand
Till these, till any of thy volume's rest,

And nimbler foot of the melodious pair,
Shall with more fire, more feeling be express'd, The silver-voiced lady, the most fair
Be sure, our Shakspeare, thou canst never die, Calliope, whose speaking silence daunts,
But, crown'd with laurel, live eternally.

And she whose praise the heavenly body chants,
L. DIGGES. These joinly woo'd him, envying one another ;-

Obey'd by all as spouse, but lor'd as brother ;To the Memory of Master W. Shakspeare. And wrought a curious robe, of sable grave,

Fresh green, and pleasant yellow, red most brave, We wonder'd, Shakspeare, that thou went'st so soon And constant blue, rich purple, guiltless white, From the world's stage to the grave's tiring-room: The lowly russet, and the scarlet bright: We thought thee dead; but this thy printed worth Branch'd and embroider'd like the painted spring; Tells thy spectators, that thou went'st but forth Each leaf match'd with a flower, and each string To enter with applause: an actor's art

Of golden wire, each line of silk : there run Can die, and live to act a second part:

Italian works, whose thread the sisters spun; That's but an exit of mortality,

And there did sing, or seem to sing, the choice This re-entrance to a plaudite.

Birds of a foreigo note and various voice :
J. M. Here hangs a mossy rock; there plays a fair
(Perhaps John Marston.) But chiding fountain, purled: not the air,

Not clouds, nor thunder, but were living drawn; Upon the effigies of my worthy Friend, the Author, But fine materials, which the muses know,

Nor out of common tiffany or lawn, Master William Shakspeare, and his Works.

And only know the countries where they grow. Spectator, this life's shadow is ;--to see

Now, when they could no longer him enjoy, The truer image, and a livelier he,

In mortal garments pent.-death may destroy, Turn reader: but observe his comic vein,

They say, his body, but his verse shall live, Laugh; and proceed next to a tragic strain,

And more than nature takes our hands shall give : Then weep : so,—when thou find'st two contraries, In a less volume, but more strongly bound, Two different passions from thy rapt soul rise,

Shakspeare shall breathe and speak; with laurel Say (who alone effect such wonders could),

crown'd Rare Shakspeare to the life thou dost behold.

Which never fades ; fed with ambrosian meat,
In a well-lined vesture, rich, and neat:

So with this robe they clothe him, bid him wear it;
On worthy Master Shakspeare, and his Poems. For time shall never stain, nor envy tear it.
A mind reflecting ages past, whose clear

The friendly Admirer of bis Endowments, And equal surface can make things appear,

J. M. S. Distani a thousand years, and represent Them in their lively colours, just extent: To outrun hasty time, retrieve the fates,

An Epitaph on the Admirable Dramatick Poet, Roll back the heavens, blow ope the iron gates

W. Shakspeare.
Of death and Lethe, where confused lie
Great beaps of ruinous mortality :

What needs my Shakspeare for his honour'd bones, In that deep dusky dungeon, to discern

The labour of an age in piled stones;
A royal ghost from churls; by art to learn Or that his hallow'd reliques should be hid
The physiognomy of shades, and give

Under a star-ypointing pyramid ?
Them sudden birth, wond'ring how oft they live; Dear son of memory, great heir of fame,
What story coldly tells, what poets feign

What need st thou such weak witness of thy name?
At second hand, and picture without brain, Thou, in our wonder and astonishment,
Senseless and soul-less shews: To give a stage, Hast built thyself a live-long monument:
Ample, and true with life,-voice, action, age,

For whilst, to the shame of slow-endeavouring art, As Plato's year, and new scene of the world, Thy easy numbers flow; and that each heart Them unto us, or us to them had hurl'd:

Hath, from the leaves of thy unvalued book, To raise our ancient sovereigns from their herse, Those Delphick lines with deep impression took; Make kings bis subjects ; by exchanging verse, Then thou, our fancy of itself bereaving, Enlive their pale trunks, that the present age

Dost make us marble with too much conceiving; Joys in their joy, and trembles at their rage : And, so sepulcher'd, in such pomp dost lie, Yet so to temper passion, that our ears

That kings, for such a tomb, would wish to die. Take pleasure in their pain, and eyes in tears

John Milton.

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