London and its Environs Described, Volume I, Page 52 & 53

A B B

    The cloud-cap'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,
    The solemn temples, the great globe itself;
    Yea, all which it inherits, shall dissolve,
    And like the baseless fabric of a vision,
    Leave not a wreck behind.

Immediately over his head upon a curi-
ous piece of dark-coloured marble, is the
following inscription, in capital letters
raised in gold:

GULIELMO SHAKESPEAR
ANNO POST MORTEM CXXIV.
AMOR PUBLICUS POSUIT.

The heads on the pedestal representing
Henry V. Richard III. and Queen Eliza-
beth, three principal characters in his plays,
are likewise proper ornaments to grace
his tomb. In short, the taste that is here
shewn, does honour to those great names
under whose direction, by the public favour,
it was so elegantly constructed; these were
the Earl of Burlington, Dr. Mead, Mr.
Pope, and Mr. Martin. It was designed
by Kent, and executed by Scheemakers;
and the expence defrayed by the grateful
contributions of the public.

Mr.

	A B B	53
Mr. Fleetwood, then Master of Drury- Lane Theatre, and Mr. Rich of Covent- Garden, gave each a benefit, arising from one of his own plays, towards it, and the Dean and Chapter made a present of the ground. 15. The next monument is a very fine one to the memory of Nicholas Rowe, Esq; and his only daughter. On a pedestal about twenty inches high, which stands on an altar, is a fine bust of Mr. Rowe; near it is his Lady in the deepest affliction, and between both, on a pyramid behind, is a medalion, with the head of a young Lady in relief. On the front of the pedestal is this inscription: To the memory of Nicholas Rowe, Esq; who died in 1718, aged forty-five, and of Charlotte his only daughter, wife of Henry Fane, Esq; who inheriting her father's spirit, and amiable in her own innocence and beauty, died in the 23d year of her age, 1739. Underneath upon the front of the altar are these lines: Thy reliques, Rowe! to this sad shrine we trust, And near thy Shakespear place thy honour'd bust. Oh! skill'd, next him, to draw the tender tear, For never heart felt passion more sincere:
	E 3	To