account of Fuller: "Many were the wit-contests betwixt him [Shakespeare] and Ben Jonson, which two I beheld like a Spanish great galleon and an English man-of-war. Master Jonson (like the former) was built far higher in learning; solid, but slow in his performances. Shakespeare (like the latter) lesser in bulk, but lighter in sailing, could turn with all tides, and take advantage of all winds, by the quickness of his wit and invention." These "wit-contests" were mostly enacted at the Mermaid Tavern, where Beaumont, Fletcher, Selden, Donne, and other shining lights in the literary heavens of that day were wont to get together. The mention of Jonson's name at once calls up in the mind that of Shakespeare, since it is to Jonson that we owe much of the little that we know, or have from scanty relics been able to infer, of the personality of the Master Dramatist. Ben Jonson was loud and self-assertive, hot-blooded, and often irritable; but that he was, as some have declared, arrogant, envious, and unlovable, can hardly be credited when we reflect that he was the intimate companion of the contemporary poets, and when we read and read again such glowing and unstinted tributes as are found in his lines on Drayton and on Shakespeare, which are given in pages following. What finer apostrophe can literature show than that of these lines to the memory of the poet he has just called "Master: ". Triumph, my Britain! Thou hast one to show He was not of an age, but for all time!" ON SHAKESPEARE [To the Memory of my Beloved Master, William Shakespeare, and What he hath Left us.] To draw no envy, Shakespeare, on thy name As neither man nor muse can praise too much. Or crafty malice might pretend this praise, Pacuvius, Accius, him of Cordova dead, To live again, to hear thy buskin tread 8 And shake a stage or when thy socks were on, Of all that insolent Greece or haughty Rome Nature herself was proud of his designs, Neat Terence, witty Plautus, now not please, As they were not of Nature's family. And such wert thou! Look how the father's face Of Shakespeare's mind and manners brightly shines In each of which he seems to shake a lance, As brandished at the eyes of ignorance. To see thee in our water yet appear, And make those flights upon the banks of Thames But stay, I see thee in the hemisphere 3 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. 1 casts about, attempts 2 well-turned 8 i. e. in the heavens ON THE PORTRAIT OF SHAKESPEARE THIS figure that thou here seest put, O could he but have drawn his wit As well in brass as he has hit His face, the print would then surpass HYMN TO DIANA QUEEN and huntress, chaste and fair, Seated in thy silver chair State in wonted manner keep : Hesperus entreats thy light, Goddess excellently bright. Earth, let not thy envious shade Heaven to clear when day did close: Bless us then with wished sight, Lay thy bow of pearl apart And thy crystal-shining quiver ; Give unto the flying hart Space to breathe, how short soever : TWO EPITAPHS I. ON THE COUNTESS OF PEMBROKE UNDERNEATH this sable hearse 1 II. ON MICHAEL DRAYTON Do, pious marble, let thy readers know Protect his memory, and preserve his story; His name, that can not die, shall be 1 THE NOBLE NATURE It is not growing like a tree In bulk, doth make man better be; Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere : A lily of a day Is fairer far in May, Although it fall and die that nightIt was the plant and flower of light. In small proportions we just beauties see; And in short measures life may perfect be. a black canopy, beneath which the coffin was placed |