et apart, let any man, who
understands English, read diligently the works of Shakespeare and
Fletcher, and I dare undertake, that he will find in every page either
some solecism of speech, or some notorious flaw in sense[1]; and yet
these men are reverenced, when we are not forgiven. That their wit is
great, and many times their expressions noble, envy itself cannot
deny.

_--Neque ego illis detrahere ausim
Haerentem capiti multa cum laude coronam._

But the times were ignorant in which they lived. Poetry was then, if
not in its infancy among us, at least not arrived to its vigour and
maturity: Witness the lameness of their plots; many of which,
especially those which they writ first (for even that age refined
itself in some measure), were made up of some ridiculous incoherent
story, which in one play many times took up the business of an age. I
suppose I need not name "Pericles, Prince of Tyre," nor the historical
plays of Shakespeare: besides many of the rest, as the "Winter's
Tale," "Love's Labour Lost," "Measure for Measure," which were either
grounded on impossibilities, or at least so meanly written, that the
comedy neither caused your mirth, nor the serious part your
concernment[2]. If I would expatiate on this subject, I could easily
demonstrate, that our admired Fletcher, who wrote after him, neither
understood correct plotting, nor that which they call "the decorum of
the stage." I would not search in his worst plays for examples: He who
will consider his "Philaster," his "Humorous Lieutenant," his
"Faithful Shepherdess," and many others which I could name, will find
them much below the applause which is now given them. He will see
Philaster wounding his mistress, and afterwards his boy, to save
himself; not to mention the Clown, who enters immediately, and not
only has the advantage of the combat against the hero, but diverts you
from your serious concernment, with his ridiculous and absurd
raillery. In his "Humorous Lieutenant," you find his Demetrius and
Leontius staying in the midst of a routed army, to hear the cold mirth
of the Lieutenant; and Demetrius afterwards appearing with a pistol in
his hand, in the next age to Alexander the Great[3]. And for his
Shepherd, he falls twice into the former indecency of wounding women.
But these absurdities, which those poets committed, may more properly
be called the age's fault than theirs. For, besides the want of
education and learning, (which was their pa