lled Daemonalogy, in defence of their existence; and likewise
at that time began to touch for the Evil, which Shakespear has taken
notice of, and paid him a fine turned compliment. So that what Spenser
there says, if it relates at all to Shakespear, must hint at some
occasional recess which he made for a time.

What particular friendships he contracted with private men, we cannot
at this time know, more than that every one who had a true taste for
merit, and could distinguish men, had generally a just value and
esteem for him. His exceeding candour and good nature must certainly
have inclined all the gentler part of the world to love him, as the
power of his wit obliged the men of the most refined knowledge and
polite learning to admire him. His acquaintance with Ben Johnson began
with a remarkable piece of humanity and good nature: Mr. Johnson, who
was at that time altogether unknown to the world, had offered one of
his plays to the stage, in order to have it acted, and the person into
whose hands it was put, after having turned it carelessly over, was
just upon returning it to him with an ill-natured answer, that it
would be of no service to their company, when Shakespeare luckily cast
his eye upon it, and found something so well in it, as to engage him
first to read it through, and afterwards to recommend Mr. Johnson and
his writings to the public.

The latter part of our author's life was spent in ease and retirement,
he had the good fortune to gather an estate, equal to his wants, and
in that to his wish, and is said to have spent some years before
his death in his native Stratford. His pleasant wit and good nature
engaged him in the acquaintance, and entitled him to the friendship,
of the gentlemen of the neighbourhood. It is still remembered in that
county, that he had a particular intimacy with one Mr. Combe, an old
gentleman, noted thereabouts for his wealth and usury. It happened
that in a pleasant conversation amongst their common friends, Mr.
Combe merrily told Shakespear, that he fancied he intended to write
his epitaph, if he happened to out-live him; and since he could not
know what might be said of him when dead, he desired it might be done
immediately; upon which Shakespear gave him these lines.

Ten in the hundred lyes here engraved,
'Tis a hundred to ten his soul is not saved:
If any man asketh who lies in this tomb?
Oh! oh! quoth the Devil, 'tis my John-a-Combe.

But the sharpness of the