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M

THE

TEMPEST.

A

COMEDY.

Printed in the YEAR 1709.

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tance, and entitled him to the Friendship of the Gentlemen of the Neighbourhood. Amongst them, it is a Story almoft ftill remember'd in that Country, that he had a particular Intimacy with Mr. Combe, an old Gentleman noted thereabouts for his Wealth and Ufury It happen'd, that in a pleasant Conversation amongst their common Friends; Mr. Combe told Shakespear in a laughing manner, that he fancy'd, he intended to write his Epitaph, if he happen'd to out-live him; and fince he could not know what might be said of him when he was dead, he defir'd it might be done immediately: Upon which Shakespear gave him these four Verses.

Ten in the Hundred lies here ingrav'd,
'Tis a Hundred to Ten, his Soul is not fav'd:
If any Man ask, Who lies in this Tomb?
Oh! ho! quoth the Devil, 'tis my John-a-Combe.

But the Sharpness of the Satyr is faid to have ftung the Man fo feverely, that he never forgave it.

He Dy'd in the 53d Year of his Age, and was bury'd on the North fide of the Chancel, in the Great Church at Stratford, where

a

Judicio Pylium, Genio Socratem
Arte Maronem

Terra tegit. Populus mæret,
Olympus habet.

P. 37, in the Life,

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