_Mucedorus, the Puritan Widow_, _the Tempest_, _Twelf-Night_, or _what
you will_, _the taming of the Shrew_, and _a winters Tale_. Fourteen
Tragedies, _viz._ _Anthony and Cleopatra_, _Coriolanus_, _Cymbeline_,
_Hamlet_, _Julius Caesar_, _Lorrino_, _Leir and his three Daughters_,
_Mackbeth_, _Othello the Moor of_ Venice, _Romeo and Juliet_, _Troylus
and Cressida_, _Tymon of_ Athens, _Titus Andronicus_, and _the
Yorkshire Tragedy_. Also fifteen Histories, _viz._ Cromwel's _History_,
_Henry_ 4. in two parts, _Henry_ 5. _Henry_ 6. in three parts, _Henry_
8. _John King of_ England, in three parts, _Pericles Prince of_ Tyre,
_Richard_ 2. _Richard_ 3. and _Oldrastes Life and Death_. Also _the
Arraignment of Paris_, a Pastoral.

Many were the Wit-combats betwixt him and _Ben Johnson_, which two we
may compare to a _Spanish great Gallion_, and an _English Man of war_:
Mr. _Johnson_, (like the former) was built far higher in Learning,
solid, but slow in his performances; _Shakespear_, with the _English
Man of war_, lesser in Bulk, but lighter in sayling, could turn with
all Tides, tack about, and take advantage of all Winds, by the
quickness of his Wit and Invention. His History of _Henry_ the Fourth
is very much commended by some, as being full of sublime Wit, and as
much condemned by others, for making Sir _John Falstaffe_ the property
of Pleasure for Prince _Henry_ to abuse, as one that was a _Thrasonical
Puff_, and emblem of mock Valour; though indeed he was a man of Arms
every inch of him, and as valiant as any his Age, being for his
Martial Prowess made Knight of the Garter by King _Henry_ the 6th.

This our famous Comedian died _An. Dom_. 16--and was buried at
_Stratford_ upon _Avon_, the Town of his Nativity; upon whom one hath
bestowed this Epitaph, though more proper had he been buried in
_Westminster Abbey_.

Renowned _Spencer_, lie a thought more nigh
To learned _Chaucer_, and rare _Beaumont_ lie
A little nearer _Spencer_ to make room
For _Shakespear_, in your threefold, fourfold Tomb,
To lodge all four in one Bed make a shift
Until Doomsday, for hardly will a fifth
Betwixt this day and that, by Fates be slain
For whom your Curtains may be drawn again.
If your precedency in Death do bar
A fourth place in your sacred Sepulcher,
Under this sacred Marble of thine own,
Sleep rare Tragedian _Shakespear_! sleep alone,
Thy unmolested Peace in an unshar'd Cave,
Possess as Lord, not Tenant of