Fiery
objurgations, words that pierce and burn, are to be found in
Shakespeare; yet he is always in measure here; never what Johnson would
remark as a specially "good hater." But his laughter seems to pour from
him in floods; he heaps all manner of ridiculous nicknames on the butt
he is bantering, tumbles and tosses him in all sorts of horse-play; you
would say, with his whole heart laughs. And then, if not always the
finest, it is always a genial laughter. Not at mere weakness, at misery
or poverty; never. No man who _can_ laugh, what we call laughing, will
laugh at these things. It is some poor character only _desiring_ to
laugh, and have the credit of wit, that does so. Laughter means
sympathy; good laughter is not "the crackling of thorns under the pot."
Even at stupidity and pretension this Shakespeare does not laugh
otherwise than genially. Dogberry and Verges tickle our very hearts; and
we dismiss them covered with explosions of laughter: but we like the
poor fellows only the better for our laughing; and hope they will get on
well there, and continue Presidents of the City-watch.
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