• Peccant Shakespeare (1/2)

    From Dennis@21:1/5 to All on Thu Feb 17 14:33:05 2022
    My Shakespeare - Peccant not Perfect



    Peccare (Latin)



    Definitions:

    1. be wrong

    2. blunder, stumble

    3. do wrong, commit moral offense

    4. sin



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    Disproportionate Droeshout Figure – Inequalis Tonsor/Ambisinister – WRONG in both hands/not dexterous



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    Jonson, Timber

    De Poetica. - We have spoken sufficiently of oratory, let us now make a diversion to poetry. Poetry, in the primogeniture, had many PECCANT HUMOURS, and is made to have more now, through the LEVITY AND INCONSTANCY of MENS JUDGEMENTS. Whereas, indeed, it
    is the most prevailing eloquence, and of the most exalted caract. Now the discredits and disgraces are many it hath received through men' s study of depravation or calumny; their practice being to give it diminution of credit, by lessening the professor'
    s estimation, and making THE AGE afraid of their liberty; and THE AGE is grown so tender of her fame, as she calls all writings aspersions.



    That is the state word, the PHRASE OF COURT (placentia college), which some call Parasites Place, the INN OF IGNORANCE.



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    Bacon, Advancement of Learning



    V

    PECCANT HUMOURS in Learning

    THus have we at length gone over the three Distem∣pers or Diseases of Learning; besides the which, there are other, rather PECCANT HUMORS, than confir∣med Diseases, which neverthelesse are not so secret and in∣trinsique, but that they fall under a
    popular sense and reprehension, and therefore are not to be passed over.

    I The first of these is an extreme affection of two extremi∣ties, Antiquity and Novelty; wherein the daughters of Time, doe take after the Father; for as Time devoureth his children, so these, one of them seeketh to depresse the other; while Antiquity
    envieth there should be new Additions; and Novel∣ty can not be content to adde things recent, but it must de∣face and reject the old. Surely the advice of the Prophet is the true direction in this case,*state super vias antiquas & vi∣dete quaenam
    fit via recta & bona & ambulate in ea: Antiquity deserveth that reverence, that men should make a stay a while, and stand thereupon, and look about to discover which is the best way; but when the discovery is well ta∣ken, than not to rest there, but
    cheerefully to make progres∣sion. Indeed to speak truly, Antiquitas seculi, Juventus Mun∣di, Certainly our times are the Ancient times, when the world is now Ancient, and not those which we count An∣cient, ordine retrogrado, by a computation
    backward from our own times.

    II An other error induced by the former is, a suspition and diffidence, that any thing should be now to be found out, which the world should have mist and past over so long time: as if the same objection might be made to Time,* wherewith Lucian
    reproacheth Iupiter, and other the Heathen Gods, For he wonders that they begot so many children in old time, and begot none in his time? and askes in scoffing manner, whether they were now become Septuagenary, or whether the Law Papia; made against old
    mens mariages, had restrained them? So it seemes men doubt least time is become past children and generation. *Nay rather the LEVITY and INCONSTANCY of MENS JUDGEMENTS, is hence plainly discovered, which untill a matter be done, wonder it can be done. So
    Alexander's expedition in∣to Asia was prejudg'd as a vast and impossible enterprize; yet afterwards it pleased Livie, so to slight it as to say of A∣lexander,*Nil aliud quam bene ausus est vana contemnere: The same hapned unto Columbus in the
    westerne Navigation. But in intellectuall matters it is much more common,(...)

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    Peccant \Pec"cant\, a. [L. peccans, -antis, p. pr. of peccare to sin: cf. F. peccant.]

    1. guilty of an offence; corrupt

    2. violating or disregarding a rule; faulty

    3. producing disease; morbid

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    Horace, of the Art of Poetrie

    transl. Ben Jonson



    If to Quintilius, you recited ought:

    Hee'd say, Mend this, good friend, and this; "Tis naught.

    If you denied, you had no better straine,

    And twice, or thrice had 'ssayd it, still in vaine:

    Hee'd bid, BLOT ALL: and to the anvile bring

    Those ill-torn'd Verses, to new hammering.



    Then: If your fault you rather had defend

    Then change. No word, or worke, more would he spend

    In vaine, BUT YOU, AND YOURS, YOU should LOVE STILL

    Alone, without a rivall, by his will.

    A wise, and honest man will cry out shame

    On artlesse Verse; the hard ones he will blame;

    Blot out the careless, with his turned pen;

    Cut off superfluous ornaments; and when

    They're darke, bid cleare this: all that's doubtfull wrote

    Reprove; and, what is to be changed, not:

    Become an Aristarchus. And, not say,

    Why should I grieve my friend, this TRIFLING WAY?

    These trifles into serious mischiefs lead

    The man once mock'd, and suffered WRONG TO TREAD.



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    Bacon, Advancement Learning



    III An other error which hath some affinity with the former is, a conceit That all sects and ancient opinions, after they have bin discussed and ventilated; the best still prevail'd and supprest the rest. Wherefore they think that if a man should begin
    the labour of a new search and examination, he must needs light upon somewhat formerly rejected, and after re∣jection, lost, and brought into oblivion: as if the multitude, or the wisest, to gratify the multitude, were not more ready to give passage to
    that which is populare and superficiall; than to that which is substantiall and profound. For Time seemeth to be of the nature of a River, *which carrieth down to us that which is light and blown up, and sinketh and drowneth that which is waighty and
    solid*.



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    Raising a Hollow/Light Praise:


    Soul of the age!

    The applause, delight, the wonder of our stage!

    My Shakespeare, RISE!


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    Bacon and Jonson – Levity and Inconstancy of Mens Judgements


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    Levity



    Levity originally was thought to be a physical force exactly like gravity but pulling in the opposite direction, like the helium in a balloon. As recently as the 19th century, scientists were still arguing about its existence. Today levity refers only to
    lightness in manner. To stern believers of some religious faiths, levity is often regarded as almost sinful.



    Synonyms

    facetiousness, flightiness, flippancy, frivolity, frivolousness, frothiness, light-headedness, light-mindedness, lightness, silliness



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    Amorphus: ALTEZZA INGEGNO



    Jonson, _Cynthia's Revels_.



    AMORPHUS. And there's her minion, Crites: why his advice more than

    Amorphus? Have I not INVENTION afore him? LEARNING to better

    that INVENTION above him? and INFANTED with PLEASANT TRAVEL



    – [PARAPHRASE OF SOUTHERN’S ODE TO Oxford in his _Pandora_.]



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    Jonson, Cynthia's Revels - censuring Amorphus and his crew of courtly

    revellers.( if we once but fancy levity)



    Crites: O VANITY [vanus/empty],

    How are thy painted beauties doted on,

    By LIGHT AND EMPTY IDIOTS how pursu'd

    With open and extended Appetite!

    How they do sweat, and run themselves from breath,

    Rais'd on their Toes, to catch thy AIRY FORMS,

    Still turning GIDDY, till they reel like Drunkards,

    That buy the merry madness of one hour,

    With the long irksomness of following time!

    O how despis'd and base a thing is a Man,

    If he not strive t'erect his groveling Thoughts

    Above the strain of Flesh! But how more cheap,

    When, even his best and understanding Part,

    (The crown and strength of all his Faculties)

    Floats like a dead drownd Body, on the Stream

    Of vulgar humour, mixt with common'st dregs?

    I suffer for their Guilt now, and my Soul

    (Like one that looks on ill-affected Eyes)

    Is hurt with mere intention on their Follies.

    Why will I view them then? my sense might ask me:

    Or is't a rarity, or some new object,

    That strains my strict observance to this Point?

    O would it were, therein I could afford

    My Spirit should draw a little neer to theirs,

    To gaze on novelties: so Vice were one.

    Tut, she is stale, rank, foul, and were it not

    That those (that woo her) greet her with lockt Eyes,

    (In spight of all the impostures, paintings, drugs,

    Which her Bawd custom dawbs her Cheeks withal)

    She would betray her loath'd and leprous Face,

    And fright th' enamour'd dotards from themselves:

    But such is the perverseness of our nature,

    That IF WE ONCE BUT FANCY LEVITY,

    (How antick and ridiculous so ere

    It sute with us) yet will our muffled thought

    Choose rather not to see it, than avoid it:

    And if we can but banish our own sense,

    We act our mimick tricks with that free license,

    That lust, that pleasure, that security,

    *As if we practis'd in a Paste-board Case*,

    And no one saw the motion, but the motion.

    Well, check thy passion, lest it grow too lowd:

    "While fools are pittied, they wax fat and proud



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    William Cartwright:



    ...Shakespeare to thee was DULL, whose best jest lyes

    I'th Ladies questions, and the Fooles replyes;

    Old fashion'd wit, which walkt from town to town

    In turn'd Hose, which our fathers call'd the CLOWN;

    Whose wit our nice times would obsceannesse call,

    And which made Bawdry passe for Comicall:

    Nature was all his Art, thy veine was FREE

    As his, but without his SCURILITY;



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    Sidney, Defense of Poetry



    But, besides these gross absurdities, how all their plays be neither right tragedies nor right comedies, mingling kings and clowns, not because the matter so carrieth it, but thrust in the clown by head and shoulders to play a part in majestical matters,
    with neither decency nor discretion; so as neither the admiration and commiseration, nor the right sportfulness, is by their mongrel tragi-comedy obtained. I know Apuleius did somewhat so, but that is a thing recounted with space of time, not represented
    in one moment; and I know the ancients have one or two examples of tragi-comedies, as Plautus hath Amphytrio. But, if we mark them well, we shall find that they never, or very daintily, match hornpipes and funerals. So falleth it out that, having indeed
    no right comedy in that comical part of our tragedy, we have nothing but scurrility, unworthy of any chaste ears, or some extreme show of doltishness, indeed fit to lift up a loud laughter, and nothing else; where the whole tract of a comedy should be
    full of delight, as the tragedy should be still maintained in a well-raised admiration.



    (snip)



    But our comedians think there is no delight without laughter, which is very wrong; for though laughter may come with delight, yet cometh it not of delight, as though delight should be the cause of laughter; but well may one thing breed both together. Nay,
    rather in themselves they have, as it were, a kind of contrariety. For delight we scarcely do, but in things that have a conveniency to ourselves, or to the general nature; laughter almost ever cometh of things most disproportioned to ourselves and
    nature. Delight hath a joy in it either permanent or present; laughter hath only a scornful tickling...But I have lavished out too many words of this playmatter. I do it, because as they are excelling parts of poesy, so is there none so much used in
    England, and none can be more pitifully abused; which, like an unmannerly daughter, showing a bad education, causeth her mother Poesy`s honesty to be called in question.

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    Dull Grinning Ignorance:



    John Beaumont , Jonsonus Virbius



    ...Twas he that found (plac'd) in the seat of wit,

    DULL grinning IGNORANCE, and banish'd it;

    He on the prostituted stage appears

    To make men hear, not by their eyes, but ears;

    Who painted virtues, that each one might know,

    And point the man, that did such treasure owe :

    So that who could in JONSON'S lines be high

    Needed not honours, or a riband buy ;

    But vice he only shewed us in a glass,

    Which by reflection of those rays that pass,

    Retains the figure lively, set before,

    And that withdrawn, reflects at us no more;

    So, he observ'd the like decorum, when

    *He whipt the vices, and yet spar'd the men* :

    When heretofore, the Vice's only note,

    And sign from virtue was his party-coat;

    When devils were the last men on the stage,

    And pray'd for plenty, and the PRESENT AGE.


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    Jonson's Epigrams:

    To the great Example of Honour, and Vertue , the most
    Noble William, Earl of Pembroke, Lord Chamberlain, &c.

    M Y L O R D,

    While you cannot change your Merit, I dare not change your Title: It was you that made it, and not I. Under which Name, I here offer to your Lordship the ripest of my Studies, my Epigrams; which, though they carry danger in the sound, do not therefore
    seek your shelter: For, when I made them, I had nothing in my Conscience, to expressing of which I did need a Cypher. But, if I be fallen into those Times, wherein, for the likeness of Vice, and Facts, every one thinks anothers ill Deeds objected to him;
    and that in their ignorant and guilty Mouths, the common Voice is (for their security) Beware the Poet, confessing, therein, SO MUCH LOVE TO THEIR DISEASES, as they would rather make a Party for them, than be either rid, or told of them: I must expect,
    at your Lordship's hand, the protection of Truth, and Liberty, while you are constant to your own Goodness. In thanks whereof, I return you the Honour of leading forth so many good, and great Names (as my Verses mention on the better part) to their
    remembrance with Posterity. Amongst whom, if I have praised, unfortunately, any one, that doth not deserve; or, if all answer not, in all Numbers, the Pictures I have made of them: I hope it will be forgiven me, that they are no ill Pieces, though they
    be not like the Persons. But I foresee a nearer Fate to my Book than this, That the Vices therein will be own'd before the Vertues, (though, there, I have avoided all Particulars, as I have done Names) and some will be so ready to discredit me, as they
    will have the impudence to bely themselves. For, if I meant them not, it is so. Nor, can I hope otherwise. For, why should they remit any thing of their Riot, their Pride, their Self-love, and other inherent Graces, to consider Truth or Vertue; but, with
    the Trade of the World, lend their long Ears against Men they love not: And hold their dear MOUNTEBANK, or JESTER, in far better Condition than all the Study, or Studiers of Humanity? For such, I would rather know them by their VISARDS, still, than they
    should publish their FACES, at their peril, in my Theatre, where C A T O, if he liv'd, might enter without scandal. By your Lordship's most faithfull Honourer,



    B E N. J O H N S O N.

    Ben Jonson's Epigrams

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    Peccant Humours/disease/distemper



    Disease/Water/Uroscopy

    mount/bank

    Sweet Swan of Avon! what a sight it were

    TO SEE THEE IN OUR WATERS yet appear,

    And make those FLIGHTS UPON the BANKS of Thames,

    That so did TAKE Eliza and our James!


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    HORACE., Ars Poet. 1.

    Suppose a painter wished to couple a horse’s neck with a man’s head,

    and to lay feathers of every hue on limbs gathered here and there, so

    that a woman, lovely above, foully ended in an ugly fish below; would

    you restrain your laughter, my friends, if admitted to a private view?

    Believe me…a BOOK will appear uncommonly like that PICTURE, if

    impossible figures are wrought into it – *like a sick man’s dreams* –

    with the result that neither head nor foot is ascribed to a single

    shape, and unity is lost*.



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    In his translation of Horace’s _Art of Poetry_ Jonson translates ‘Minerva’ as ‘Nature’



    Alexander Pope

    ...of all English Poets Shakespear must be confessed to be the fairest and fullest subject for Criticism, and to afford the most numerous, as well as the most conspicuous instances, both of beauties and FAULTS of all sorts. (ibid. p. i)

    (snip)

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    Pope, Preface to Shakespeare



    ...the images of Life were to be drawn from those of their [the audience’s] own rank: accordingly we find, that not our Author’s only but almost all the old Comedies have their Scene among Tradesmen and Mechaniks: and even their Historical Plays
    strictly follow the common Old Stories or Vulgar Traditions of that kind of people. In Tragedy, nothing was so sure to Surprize and cause Admiration, as the most strange, unexpected, and consequently most unnatural, Events and Incidents; the most
    exaggerated Thoughts; the most verbose and bombast Expression; the most pompous Rhymes, and thundering Versification. In Comedy, nothing was so sure to please, as mean bufoonery, vile ribaldry, and unmannerly jests of fools and clowns. (Preface to
    edition, p. v)



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    Mix head with heels? Levity or inversion?

    Bartholomew Fair: Jonson

    The Induction on the Stage:

    (SNIP)

    It is also agreed, That every Man here exercise his

    own Judgment, and not *Censure by Contagion*, or upon

    trust, from anothers Voice, or Face, that sits by him,

    be he never so first in the *Commission of Wit*: As also,

    that he be fixt and settled in his Censure, that what he

    approves, or not approves to day, he will do the same

    to morrow; and if to morrow, the next day, and so

    the next week (if need be:) and not to be brought

    about by any that sits on the Bench with him, though

    they indite and arraign Plays daily. He that will swear,

    Jeronimo, or Andronicus are the best Plays, yet shall pass

    unexcepted at here, as a Man whose JUDGEMENT shews it

    is CONSTANT



    [NOTE-LEVITY AND INCONSTANCY OF Mens JUDGEMENTS],



    and hath stood still these five and twenty

    or thirty years. Though it be an IGNORANCE, it is a

    vertuous and staid Ignorance; and next to truth, a CON-

    FIRM’D ERROR [PECCANT HUMOUR]

    does well; such a one the Author knows

    where to find him.

    It is further covenanted, concluded and agreed, That how great soever the expectation be, no Person here is to expect more than he knows, or better Ware than a Fair will afford: neither to look back to the Sword and Buckler-age of Smithfield, but content
    himself with the present. Instead of a little Davy, to take Toll o' the Bawds, the Author doth promise a strutting Horse-courser, with a leer-Drunkard, two or three to attend him, in as good Equipage as you would wish. And then for Kind- heart, the Tooth-
    drawer, a fine Oily Pig-woman with her Tapster, to bid you welcome, and a Consort of Roarers for Musick. A wise Justice of Peace meditant, instead of a Jugler, with an Ape. A civil Cutpurse searchant. A sweet Singer of new Ballads allurant: and as fresh
    an Hypocrite, as ever was broach'd, rampant. If there be ne- ver a Servant-monster i' 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, to mix his head with other Mens Heels; let the CONCUPISCENCE of JIGS AND DANCES, reign as strong as it will amongst you: yet if the Pup-pets will please any body, they shall be entreated to come in.


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    Jonson, _The Alchemist_

    TO THE READER.

    If thou beest more, thou art an understander, and then I trust thee. If thou art one that takest up, and but a pretender, beware of what hands thou receivest thy commodity; for thou wert never more fair in the way to be cozened, than in THIS AGE, in
    poetry, especially in plays: wherein, now the CONCUPISCENCE of DANCES and of ANTICS so reigneth, as to run away from nature, and be afraid of her, is the only point of art that tickles the spectators. But how out of purpose, and place, do I name art?
    When the professors are grown so obstinate contemners of it, and presumers on their own naturals, as they are deriders of all diligence that way, and, by simple mocking at the terms, when they understand not the things, think to get off WITTILY with
    their IGNORANCE. Nay, they are esteemed the more learned, and sufficient for this, by the many, through their excellent vice of judgment. For they commend writers, as they do fencers or wrestlers; who if they come in robustuously, and put for it with a
    great deal of violence, are received for the braver fellows: when many times their own rudeness is the cause of their disgrace, and a little touch of their adversary gives all that boisterous force the foil. I deny not, but that these men, who always
    seek to do more than enough, may some time happen on some thing that is good, and great; but very seldom; and when it comes it doth not recompense the rest of their ill. It sticks out, perhaps, and is more eminent, because all is sordid and VILE about it:
    as lights are more discerned in a thick darkness, than a faint shadow. I speak not this, out of a hope to do good to any man against his will; for I know, if it were put to the question of theirs and mine, *the worse would find more suffrages: because
    the most favour common errors*. But I give thee this warning, that there is a great difference between those, that, to gain the opinion of copy, utter all they can, however unfitly; and those that use election and a mean. For it is only the DISEASE of
    the unskilful, to think rude things greater than polished; or scattered more numerous than composed.

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    TO THE GREAT EXAMPLE OF HONOR, AND VERTVE, THE MOST NOBLE WILLIAM EARLE OF PENBROOKE, &c.

    MY LORD,



    IN so thicke, and darke an IGNORANCE, as now almost couers the AGE, I craue leaue to stand neare your light: and, by that, to be read. Posterity may pay your benefit the honor, and thanks; when it shall know, that you dare, in these JIG-GIVEN times, to
    countenance a legitimate Poëme. I must call it so, against all noise of opinion: from whose crude, and airy reports, I appeale, to that great and singular faculty of Iudgment in your Lordship, able to vindicate truth from ERROR. It is the first (of this
    RACE) that euer I dedicated to any Person, and had I not thought it the best, it should haue beene taught a lesse ambition. Now, it approacheth your censure chearefully, and with the same assurance, that Innocency would appeare before a Magistrate.

    Your Lo. most faithfull Honorer. Ben. Ionson.

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    Bartholomew Fair, Jonson

    The Induction to the Stage

    Stage-keeper.

    Gentlemen, have a little patience, they are e'en

    upon coming, instantly. He that should be-

    gin the Play, Master Little-wit, the Proctor,

    has a stitch new faln in his black silk Stock-

    ing; 'twill be drawn up ere you can tell twenty. He

    plays one o' the Arches that dwells about the Hospital,

    and he has a very pretty part. But for the whole Play,

    will you ha' the truth on't? (I am looking, lest the Poet

    hear me, or his Man, Master Broom, behind the Arras)

    it is like to be a very conceited scurvy one, in plain En-

    glish. When't comes to the Fair once, you were e'en

    as good go to Virginia, for any thing there is of Smith-

    field. He has not hit the Humours, he do's not know

    'em; he has not convers'd with the Bartholmew-birds,

    as they say; he has ne'er a Sword and Buckler Man in

    his Fair; nor a little Davy, to take Toll o' the Bawds

    there, as in my time; nor a Kind-heart, if any bodies

    Teeth should chance to ake in his Play; nor a Jugler

    with a well-educated Ape, to come over the Chain for

    the King of England, and back again for the Prince,

    and sit still on his Arse for the Pope, and the King of

    Spain! None o' these fine sights! Nor has he the Can-

    vas-cut i' the Night, for a Hobby-horse-man to creep in-

    to his she-neighbour, and take his leap there! Nothing!

    No, and some writer (that I know) had had but the Pen-

    ning o' this matter, he would ha' made you such a Jig-

    ajog i' the Boothes, you should ha' thought an Earth-

    quake had been i' the Fair! But these Master-Poets,

    they will ha' their own absurd courses; they will be

    inform'd of nothing. He has (sirreverence) kick'd me

    three or four times about the Tyring-house, I thank him,

    for but offering to put in with my experience. I'll

    be judg'd by you, Gentlemen, now, but for one conceit

    of mine! Would not a fine Pump upon the Stage ha'

    done well, for a property now? and a Punque set under

    upon her Head, with her Stern upward, and ha' been

    sous'd by my witty young Masters o' the Inns o' Court?

    What think you o' this for a shew, now? he will not

    hear 'o this! I am an Ass! I! and yet I kept the Stage

    in Master Tarleton's time, I thank my Stars. Ho! and

    that Man had liv'd to have play'd in Bartholmew Fair,

    you should ha' seen him ha' come in, and ha' been co-

    zened i' the Cloath-quarter, so finely! And Adams,

    the Rogue, ha' leap'd and caper'd upon him, and ha'

    dealt his Vermine about, as though they had cost him

    nothing. And then a substantial WATCH to ha' stoln in

    upon 'em, and taken 'em away, WITH MISTAKING WORDS,

    AS THE FASHION IS in the Stage-practice.

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    Jonson, To the MEMORY of My Beloved the Author, Mr. William Shakespeare



    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' anvil; turn the same

    (And himself with it) that he thinks to frame,

    Or, for the laurel, he may gain a scorn;

    For a good poet's *made*, as well as born;

    And such wert thou.



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    Jonson

    Nature herself was proud of his DESIGNS

    And joy'd to wear the DRESSING of his lines, [CLOTHES/PAINTING BIRDLIME OF FOOLS]

    Which were so richly spun, and woven so fit,

    As, since, she will vouchsafe no other wit.

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    In the verse prologue to _Every Man in his Humour_ , Jonson characterizes Shakespeare's plays as 'Monsters'



    SCENE,---LONDON

    PROLOGUE.



    Though need make many poets, and some such

    As art and nature have not better'd much;

    Yet ours for want hath not so loved the stage,

    As he dare serve the *ill customs of the AGE*,

    Or purchase your delight at such a rate,

    As, for it, he himself must justly hate:

    To make a child now swaddled, to proceed

    Man, and then shoot up, in one beard and weed,

    Past threescore years; or, with three rusty swords,

    And help of some few foot and half-foot words,

    Fight over York and Lancaster's king jars,

    And in the tyring-house bring wounds to scars.

    He rather prays you will be pleas'd to see

    One such to-day, as other plays should be;

    Where neither chorus wafts you o'er the seas,

    Nor creaking throne comes down the boys to please;

    Nor nimble squib is seen to make afeard

    The gentlewomen; nor roll'd bullet heard

    To say, it thunders; nor tempestuous drum

    Rumbles, to tell you when the storm doth come;

    But deeds, and language, such as men do use,

    And persons, such as comedy would choose,

    When she would shew an image of the times,

    And sport with human follies, not with CRIMES.

    Except we make them such, by loving still

    Our POPULAR ERRORS, when we know they're ill.

    I mean such ERRORS as you'll all confess,

    By laughing at them, they deserve no less:

    Which when you heartily do, there's hope left then,

    *You, that have so grac'd MONSTERS, may like men*.







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    Saturday, 14 September 1751.

    By Samuel Johnson


    Nunquam aliud natura, aliud sapientia dicit.

    Juvenal, XIV.321.

    For wisdom ever echoes nature’s voice.

    [1] Every government, say the politicians, is perpetually degenerating towards corruption, from which it must be rescued at certain periods by the resuscitation of its first principles, and the re-establishment of its original constitution. Every animal
    body, according to the methodick physicians, is, by the predominance of some exuberant quality, continually declining towards disease and death, which must be obviated by a seasonable reduction of the PECCANT HUMOUR to the just equipoise which health
    requires.

    [2] In the same manner the studies of mankind, all at least which, not being subject to rigorous demonstration, admit the influence of fancy and caprice, are perpetually tending to error and confusion. Of the great principles of truth which the first
    speculatists discovered, the simplicity is embarrassed by ambitious additions, or the evidence obscured by inaccurate argumentation; and as they descend from one succession of writers to another, like light transmitted from room to room, they lose their
    strength and splendour, and fade at last in total evanescence.

    [3] The systems of learning therefore must be sometimes reviewed, complications analised into principles, and knowledge disentangled from opinion. It is not always possible, without a close inspection, to separate the genuine shoots of consequential
    reasoning, which grow out of some radical postulate, from the branches which art has engrafted on it. The accidental prescriptions of authority, when time has procured them veneration, are often confounded with the laws of nature, and those rules are
    supposed coeval with reason, of which the first rise cannot be discovered.

    [4] Criticism has sometimes permitted fancy to dictate the laws by which fancy ought to be restrained, and fallacy to perplex the principles by which fallacy is to be detected; her super-intendance of others has betrayed her to negligence of herself; and,
    like the antient Scythians, by extending her conquests over distant regions, she has left her throne vacant to her slaves.

    (SNIP)

    [10] I know not whether he that professes to regard no other laws than those of nature, will not be inclined to receive tragi-comedy to his protection, whom, however generally condemned, her own laurels have hitherto shaded from the fulminations of
    criticism. For what is there in the mingled drama which impartial reason can condemn? The connexion of important with trivial incidents, since it is not only common but perpetual in the world, may surely be allowed upon the stage, which pretends only to
    be the mirrour of life. The impropriety of suppressing passions before we have raised them to the intended agitation, and of diverting the expectation from an event which we keep suspended only to raise it, may be speciously urged. But will not
    experience shew this objection to be rather subtle than just? is it not certain that the tragic and comic affections have been moved alternately with equal force, and that no plays have oftner filled the eye with tears, and the breast with palpitation,
    than those which are variegated with interludes of mirth?

    [11] I do not however think it safe to judge of works of genius merely by the event. These resistless vicissitudes of the heart, this alternate prevalence of merriment and solemnity, may sometimes be more properly ascribed to the vigour of the writer
    than the justness of the design: and instead of vindicating tragi-comedy by the success of Shakespear, we ought perhaps to pay new honours to *that transcendent and unbounded genius that could preside over the passions in sport*; who, to actuate the
    affections, needed not the slow gradation of common means, but could fill the heart with instantaneous jollity or sorrow, and vary our disposition as he changed his scenes. Perhaps the effects even of Shakespeare’s poetry might have been yet greater,
    had he not counter-acted himself; and we might have been more interested in the distresses of his heroes had we not been so frequently diverted by the jokes of his buffoons.



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