fome pearls and diamonds that have not been exposed in this manner to public view. The Editor thinks that not above fifty lines in this collection have been, as yet, applied to any body; and these few, for the most part, are given to different perfons.

It is impoffible to perufe a work of this nature, without profit and delight. A great writer has told us, indeed, that Shakespeare wrote his plays without any moral intention; this is poffible, but furely not very probable, when we reflect that every page of his works breathes morality fupported by example.

The Gentlemen who furnished the feveral portraits and applications, have certainly

certainly proved themselves to be unattached to any party or faction. Whereever they found beauty or deformity, virtue or vice, they have honeftly transferred them to their proper owners. It was thought neceffary to beftow a few notes and observations on some striking or remarkable characters; which it is to be hoped, are written without flattery or malignity.

MODERN CHARACTERS.

B Y

SHAKESPEARE.

The KING.

H place and greatnefs! millions of false eyes Are stuck upon thee; volumes of report

Run with thefe falfe and moft contrarious quests
Upon thy doings; thousand efcapes of wit

Make thee the father of their idle dreams

And rack thee in their fancies.

That you would love yourself, and in that love Not unconfider'd leave your honour, nor

The dignity of your office, is the point

Of my petition.

The TIMES.

Henry VIII

England now is left

To tugg and scramble, and to part by the teeth,
Th' unowed intereft of proud-fwelling ftate.

Now for the bare pick'd bone of Majefty
Doth dogged war briftle his angry creft
And fnarleth in the gentle eyes of peace.

Now pow'rs from home and discontent at home,
Meet in one line, and vast confufion waits

(As doth a raven on a fick-fall'n beaft)
The imminent decay of wrefted pomp.

Now happy he whofe cloak and cincture can
Hold out this tempeft.

King John.

MARQUIS to the MARCHIONESS of G-BY. Silence is the perfecteft herald of joy. I were but little happy if I could fay how much, Lady as

you

you are mine, I am yours; I give away myself

and doat on the exchange.

Much Ado, &c

POL K-N-DY,

Little have you to fay,

When you depart from him, but soft and low;

Remember now my

brotber.

Measure for Measure.

Mr. HT.

Doft thou but think,

What 'tis to cram a maw, or cloath a back
From fuch a filthy vice? fay to thyself
From their abominable and beaftly touches
I drink, I eat, array myself and live ;
Canft thou believe thy living is a life

So ftinkingly depending ?-Go mend, mend.

Meafure for Meafur.

Lord N- H.

Promifing is the air of the times, it

opens the eyes of expectation; performance is ever

the

Lord Nh is the moft incomprehenfible and extraordinary minifter that ever managed the

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affaire