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TO THE MEMORIE of the deceaſed Authour Maiſter W. SHAKESPEARE. Hake-fpeare, at length thy pious fellowes giue The world thy Workes: thy Workes, by which,out-liue Thy Tombe, thy name muſt: when that ſtone is rent, And Time diffolues thy Stratford Moniment, Here we aliue (ball view thee ſtill. This Bookė, When Braſſe and Marble fade, ſhall make thee looke Freſh to all Ages: when Poſteritie Shall loath what's neb,thinke all is prodegie That is not Shake-ſpeares; eu'ry Line,each Verſe Here ſhall reviue,redeeme thee from thy Herſe. Nor Fire,nor cankring Age,as Naſo ſaid, Of his,thy witefraught Booke ſhall once inuade. Nor ſhall I é're beleeue, or thinke thee dead (Though miſt) untill our bankrout Stage beſped (Fmpoſsible) with ſome new ſtraine t'out-do Paſsions of Iuliet,and ber Romeo; Or till J heare a Scene more nobly take, Then when thy half-Sword parlying Romansſpake. Till theſe till any of thy Volumes reſt Shall with more fire more feeling be expreſt, Be fure,our Shake-ſpeare, thou canſt neuer dye, But crown’d with Lawrell,liue eternally. L. Digges. To the memorie of M.W.Shake-Speare. VVEE wondred (Shake-ſpeare) that thou wentftfofoone From the Worlds-Stage to the Graues-Tyring-roome. Wee thought thee dead, but this thy printed worth, Tels thy Spe&tators that thou mentſ but forth To enter with applauſe. An A&tors Art, Can dye and liue to acte a ſecond part. That's but an Exit of Mortalitie; This, a Re-entrance to a Plaudite. 1. M.