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of approbation, and of future fame, every mortal must have been enchanted.


That industrious antiquary, Aubrey, informs us, that our great dramatist took the humour of Dogberry, in “Much Ado about Nothing," from an actual occurrence, which happened at Crendon, in Bucks, during one of the poet's journeys between Stratford and London, and that the constable was living at Crendon, when Aubrey first went to Oxford, which was about the year 1642.


A few days after Voltaire had been at the point of death, he found himself so much recovered, as to be present at the meeting of the academy, and at the play-house. On his arrival at the academy, he found in the court of the Louvre, two thousand people, who, clapping their hands, cried, “ long live M. de Voltaire.” The academy proceeded in a body to meet him, gave him the place of honour, requested him to preside, pronounced him director, by acclamation; and, in short, omitted nothing, that might testify to this Nestor of literature, their veneration and

regard. He charmed them all, by his politeness, the graces of his understanding, and the singular urbanity of his manners. From the academy, he went to the play house, followed by a numerous concourse of people. The applause on his entering the house, and during the representation of his tragedy of “ Irene," was beyond all precedent. The actors came into the box where he sat, and placed a laurel crown upou his head, amidst the tumultuous applauses of the whole audience, crying, bravo ! bravo! and thundering with hands and feet. Between the performance of the play and farce, they brought forward his bust crowned with laurel, and then it was that the acclamations of the house were redoubled.


Foote dining one day with Lord Townshend, after his duel with Lord Bellamont, the wine being bad, and the dinner ill dressed, made Foote observe, that he could not discover what reason could compel his Lordship to take up arms, when he might have effected his purpose another way, and with much more ease to himself. Why, how (replied his lordship) could I have acted otherwise?” “How ! (replied the wit) why, you

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should have invited him to dine with your Lordship, as you have done me, and poisoned him.”


Drawn in the year 1630. Hee knows the right use of the world wherein he comes to play a part, and so away. His life is not idle ; for it is all action, and no man need be more wary in his doings, for the eyes of all men are upon him. His profession has in it a kind of contradiction, for none is more disliked, and none more applauded; and hee has this misfortune of some scholars,—too much witt makes him a fool. Hee is like our painted gentlewomen, seldom in his own face, seldomer in his own clothes, and hee pleases the better in counterfeit, except only when hee is disguised, with straw for gold lace. Hee does not only personate on the stage, but sometimes in the streete; for he is masked still in the habite of a gentleman. His partes find him oaths and good words, which he keeps for his use and discourse, and makes show with of a fashionable companion. Hee is tragical on the stage, but rampant in the tyring himself: and sweares oaths there, which he never could elsewhere. The waiting women, spectators, are over

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