conversation of gentlemen, to represent the airy sprightliness
of juvenile elegance. Mr. Dryden mentions a tradition which might
easily reach his time, of a declaration made by Shakespeare, that
he was obliged to kill Mercutio in the third act, lest he should
have been killed by him. Yet he thinks him no such formidable
person, but that he might have lived through the play, and died in
his bed, without danger to a poet. Dryden well knew, had he been in
quest of truth, that, in a pointed sentence, more regard is commonly
had to the word than the thought, and that it is very seldom to
be rigorously understood. Mercutio's wit, gaiety and courage, will
always procure him friends that wish him a longer life; but his
death is not precipitated, he has lived out the time allotted him
in the construction of the play; nor do I doubt the ability of
Shakespeare to have continued his existence, though some of his
sallies are perhaps out of the reach of Dryden; whose genius was
not very fertile of merriment, nor ductile to humour, but acute,
argumentative, comprehensive, and sublime.

The Nurse is one of the characters in which the Authour delighted:
he has, with great subtility of distinction, drawn her at once
loquacious and secret, obsequious and insolent, trusty and dishonest.

His comick scenes are happily wrought, but his pathetick strains
are always polluted with some unexpected depravations. His persons,
however distressed, HAVE A CONCEIT LEFT THEM IN THEIR MISERY, A
MISERABLE CONCEIT.