en those who, to
assuage their consciences, entered a formal protest against his
innovations, soon swelled the chorus of praise with which his work was
welcomed by contemporary playgoers, cultured and uncultured alike. The
unauthorised publishers of 'Troilus and Cressida' in 1608 faithfully
echoed public opinion when they prefaced the work with the note: 'This
author's comedies are so framed to the life that they serve for the most
common commentaries of all actions of our lives, showing such a dexterity
and power of wit that the most displeased with plays are pleased with his
comedies. . . . So much and such savoured salt of wit is in his comedies
that they seem for their height of pleasure to be born in the sea that
brought forth Venus.'

Ben Jonson's tribute.

Anticipating the final verdict, the editors of the First Folio wrote,
seven years after Shakespeare's death: 'These plays have had their trial
already and stood out all appeals.' {327a} Ben Jonson, the staunchest
champion of classical canons, noted that Shakespeare 'wanted art,' but he
allowed him, in verses prefixed to the First Folio, the first place among
all dramatists, including those of Greece and Rome, and claimed that all
Europe owed him homage:

Triumph, my Britain, thou hast one to show,
To whom all scenes [_i.e._ stages] of Europe homage owe.
He was not of an age, but for all time.

In 1630 Milton penned in like strains an epitaph on 'the great heir of
fame:'

What needs my Shakespeare for his honoured bones
The labour of an age in piled stones?
Or that his hallowed reliques should be hid
Under a star-ypointing pyramid?
Dear son of memory, great heir of fame,
What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name?
Thou in our wonder and astonishment
Hast built thyself a lifelong monument.

A writer of fine insight who veiled himself under the initials I. M. S.
{327b} contributed to the Second Folio of 1632 a splendid eulogy. The
opening lines declare 'Shakespeare's freehold' to have been

A mind reflecting ages past, whose clear
And equal surface can make things appear
Distant a thousand years, and represent
Them in their lively colours' just extent.

It was his faculty

To outrun hasty time, retrieve the fates,
Roll back the heavens, blow ope the iron gates
Of death and Lethe, where (confused) lie
Great heaps of ruinous mortality.

Milton and I. M. S. we