ided, having the marks
upon her of the three enemies of man--the world, as being in the
Fair, the Devil, as being in the fire;[53] and the flesh as being
herself.

Ben Jonson has a strange, and I believe original conceit of introducing
persons to explain their plays, and make remarks on the characters.
Sometimes many interruptions of this kind occur in the course of a
drama, affording variety and amusement to the audience, or the reader.
In "Midsummer's Night's Dream" we have the insertion of a play within a
play. The following taken from Jonson's epigrams have fine complexity,
and show a certain tinge of humour.

THE HOUR GLASS.

"Consider this small dust here in the glass,
By atoms moved:
Could you believe that this the body was
Of one that loved;
And in his mistress' flame, playing like a fly,
Was turned to cinders by her eye:
Yes; and in death as like unblest,
To have't exprest,
Ev'n ashes of lovers find no rest."

MY PICTURE.--LEFT IN SCOTLAND.

I now think Love is rather deaf than blind,
For else it could not be
That she,
Whom I adore so much, should so slight me,
And cast my suit behind;
I'm sure my language to her was as sweet,
And every close did meet
In sentence of as subtle feet,
As hath the youngest, he,
That sits in shadow of Apollo's tree.
Oh! but my conscious fears
That fly my thoughts between
Tell me that she hath seen
My hundreds of gray hairs,
Told seven and forty years,
Read so much waste, as she cannot embrace
My mountain belly, and my rocky face,
And all these through her eyes have stopt her ears.

Although fond of indulging in strong language, Jonson is scarcely ever
guilty of any really coarse allusion--he expresses his aversion from
anything of the kind, and this in the age in which he lived, argued
great refinement of feeling.

In Fletcher we mark a progress in humour. Ben Jonson was so personal
that he made enemies, and was suspected of attacking Inigo Jones and
others, but Fletcher was general in his references, and merely ridiculed
the manners of the age. The classic element disappears, and quibbling
and playing with words--so fashionable in Shakespeare's time--is not
found in this author, whose humour has more point, and generally more
sarcasm, but of a refined character.

The name of Fletcher is invariably connected with Beaumont. The two
young men lived toget