1607-8, and married April 22, 1626, to Thomas Nashe, Esq., who died in 1647, and afterwards to Sir John Barnard, of Abington, in Northamptonshire; but died without issue by either husband. Judith, Shakespeare's youngest daughter, was married, February 10, 1615-16, to a Mr. Thomas Quiney, and died, February, 1661–62, in her 77th year. By Mr. Quiney she had three sons, Shakespeare, Richard and Thomas, who all died unmarried, and here the descendants of our poet became extinct. In the year 1741, a monument was erected to the memory of the "immortal bard" in Westminster Abbey, by the direction of the Earl of Burlington, Dr. Mead, Mr. Pope, and Mr. Martyn. It was the work of Schoemaker, (who received £300 for it,) after a design of Kent, and was opened in January of that year, one hundred and twenty-five years after the death of him whom it commemorates, and whose genius appears to have been forgotten during almost the whole of that long period. The performers of each of the London theatres gave a benefit to defray the expenses, and the Dean and Chapter of Westminster took nothing for the ground. The money received by the performance at Drury-lane theatre amounted to above £200, but the receipts at Covent-garden did not exceed £100. From these imperfect notices, which are all we have been able to collect from the labours of his biographers and commentators, the reader will perceive that less is known of Shakespeare than of almost any writer who has been considered as an object of laudable curiosity. Nothing could be more highly gratifying than an account of the early studies of this wonderful man, the progress of his pen, his moral and social qualities, his friendships, his failings, and whatever else constitutes personal history. But on all these topics his contemporaries and his immediate successors have been equally silent, and if aught can be hereafter discovered, it must be by exploring sources which have hitherto escaped the anxious researches of those who have devoted their whole lives, and their most vigorous talents, to revive his memory, and illustrate his writings. Dr. Johnson, in his elaborate and just review of Shakespeare, observes, "He has scenes of undoubted and perpetual excellence, but perhaps not one play, which, if it were now exhibited as the work of a contemporary writer, would be heard to the conclusion. I am indeed, (says he,) far from thinking that his works were wrought to his own ideas of perfection; when they were such as would satisfy the audience, they satisfied the writer. It is seldom that authors, though more studious of fame than Shakespeare, rise much above the standard of their own age; to add a little to what is best will always be sufficient for present praise, and those who find themselves exalted into fame, are willing to credit their encomiasts, and to spare the labour of contending with themselves." The dramatic reputation of Shakespeare, although great in his own days, became partially obsolete during the period when French taste prevailed, and French models were studied, under the second Charles; and rising again as it did on its own intrinsic pretension, until his productions established a national taste, the fact is still more honorable to his genius. That much of the admiration entertained for him is national and conventional, may be freely allowed; but giving all due weight to the cold hints of this nature, which pervade criticism of a certain tone, a fair appeal may be made on the ground of positive qualification, and a knowledge of the human heart, which, in its diversity at least, has never been surpassed. To this faculty must be added, that of an imagination powerful, poetical, and so felicitously creative, that presuming the existence of the vivid offspring of his fancy, the adopted feelings and manners seem to belong to them alone. Voltaire observes that Shakespeare has been the favourite of the English nation for more than a century; and that that which has engrossed national admiration for a hundred years, will by prescription insure it for ever. But though there may be some truth in this remark, the obvious and undeniable fact is, that great nativ trength of genius can alone establish the prepossession. DICTIONARY OP Shakespearian Quotations. ABILITY, INNATE. A. There's in him stuff that puts him to these ends: ABSENCE. H. VIII. i. 1. I have this while with leaden thoughts been press'd; Strike off this score of absence. LOVERS'. What! keep a week away? seven days and nights? O. iii. 4. Eight score eight hours,-and lovers' absent hours,- O. iii. 4. T. G. v. 4. ABUSE, AND BAD ENGLISH (See also VITUPERATION). M. W. v. 5. Have I lived to stand at the taunt of one that make. fritters of English? Here will be an old abusing of God's patience and the king's English. M. W. i. 4 Let them keep their limbs whole, and hack our English. ACCUSATION. To vouch this is no proof, 0. i. 3. Without more certain and more overt test, Than these thin habits, and poor likelihoods Of modern seeming do prefer against him. ACHIEVEMENT. A very good piece of work, I assure you, and a merry. M. N. D. i. 1. Let it be booked with the rest of this day's deeds; or I swear I will have it in a particular ballad, with mine own picture on the top of it. H. IV. PT. 11. iv. 1 ACQUITTAL. Now doth thy honour stand, As firm as faith. ACTION, DRAMATIC. M. W. iv. 4. Let your own discretion be your tutor: suit the action to the word, and the word to the action; with this special observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature: for any thing so overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the first, and now, was, and is, to hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time his form and pressure: *** O, there be players, that I have seen play, and heard others praise, and that highly,-not to speak it profanely, that, neither having the accent of Christians, nor the gait of Christian, Pagan, nor man, have so strutted, and bellowed, that I have thought some of nature's journeymen had made men, and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably. ADOPTION. 'Tis often seen Adoption strives with nature; and choice breeds ADORATION, A LOVER'S. H. iii. 2. A. W. i. 3. What you do, ADORATION,-continued. Still betters what is done. When you speak, sweet, So singular in each particular, Crowns what you are doing in the present deeds, W. T. iv. 4. T. G. iv. 1. But myself, ADVERSITY (See also MISFORtune). Who had the world as my confectionary; The mouths, the tongues, the eyes, the hearts of men Such a house broke! So noble a master fallen! All gone! and not FOLLY OF REPINING AT. What think'st T. A. iv. 3 T. A. iv. 2. That the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain, And skip when thou point'st out? will the cold brook, To cure thy o'er-night's surfeit? Call the creatures; Of wreakful heaven; whose bare unhoused trunks, Answer mere nature,-bid them flatter thee. ITS USES. Sweet are the uses of adversity, Which, like the toad, ugly and venemous, T. A. iv. 3. Wears yet a precious jewel in its head. 'Tis good for men to love their present pains, A. Y. ii. 1. |