only, from the magnitude of the trust, render more awfully responsible.
That he was greatly honoured and respected at Stratford, we are induced to credit, not only from tradition, but from the tone and disposition of heart and intellect which his works every-where evince; and accordingly, Rowe has told us, that "his pleasurable wit and good-nature engaged him in the acquaintance, and entitled him to the friendship of the gentlemen of the neighbourhood."[604:A]
He had scarcely, however, settled in the place, when his property, and that of all his neighbours, was threatened with utter extinction; for, on the 9th of July, 1614, a fire broke out in the town, which according to a brief shortly afterwards granted for its relief, "within the space of lesse than two houres consumed and burnt fifty and fowre Dwelling Howses, many of them being very faire Houses, besides Barnes, Stables, and other Howses of Office, together with great Store of Corne, Hay, Straw, Wood and Timber therein, amounting to the value of Eight Thowsand Pounds and upwards: the force of which fier was so great (the Wind sitting full upon the Towne) that it dispersed into so many places thereof, whereby the whole Towne was in very great danger to have beene utterly consumed."[604:B] Shakspeare's house fortunately escaped.
On the 10th of July, 1614, our poet was deprived of his neighbour and acquaintance Mr. John Combe, a character whose celebrity is altogether founded on the epitaph which Shakspeare is said to have written upon him. The story, however, as related by Rowe, is injurious to the memory of its supposed author, by representing him as wantonly inflicting pain at the moment when his friendship and forbearance were most required. "In a pleasant conversation amongst their common friends," relates Rowe, "Mr. Combe told Shakspeare, in a laughing manner, that he fancied he intended to write his epitaph, if he happened to out-live him; and since he could not know
what might be said of him when he was dead, he desired it might be done immediately; upon which Shakspeare gave him these four verses:—
'Ten in the hundred lies here engrav'd;
'Tis a hundred to ten his soul is not sav'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 satire is said to have stung the man so severely, that he never forgave it."[605:A]