Westminster April 5, 1636, James Howell describes a Solem supper given by Jonson at which he and Thomas Carew were present, when Ben seems to have drenched himself with his favorite canary wine. Howell writes, “I was invited yesternight to a Solem supper by B. J. whom you deeply remember. There was good company, excellent cheer, choice wines, and jovial welcome. One thing intervened which almost spoiled the relish of the rest. Ben began to engross all the discourse to vapour extremely of himself and by vilifying others to magnify his own muse. Thomas Carew buzzed me in the ear that Ben had barreled up a great deal of knowledge, yet seems he had not read the ‘Ethiques’ which, among other precepts of morality, forbid self commendation. But for my part I am content to dispense with this Roman infirmity of B’s now that time has snowed upon his pricranium.” The reader is not unmindful that the language of Ben Jonson is sometimes grossly opprobrious, sometimes basely adulatory, while his laudatory verses on Shakespeare, Silvester, Beaumont and other cotemporary writers, are in striking contrast by the discrepancy of testimony disclosed by his prose works and conversations. In the memorial verses Jonson tells us Shakespeare stood alone—“Alone for the comparison of all that insolent Greece or haughty Rome sent forth or since did from their ashes come.” The strictest scrutiny, however, into the life and works of Ben Jonson fails to denote his actual acquaintance with the works of the greatest genius of our world. What became of his enthusiastic eulogy of Shakespeare, when “from my house in the Black-Friars this 11th day of February, 1607” Ben Jonson writes his dedication—“Volpone” to “The Two Famous Universities,” which should have disclosed his close friendship with, and admiration for, William Shakespeare, for the great dramatist was then in the zenith of his power. The dedication of “Volpone” was written nine years before the death of William Shakspere, the player, when Jonson declared “I shall raise the despised head of poetry again and stripping her out of those rotten and base rags wherewith the times have adulterated her form.”