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Out of the bowels of the harmless earth,
l'll read your matter, deep and dangerous :
(4) By heav'ns! methinks, it were an easy leap,
"6 tho' the
(4) By beav'ns ! &c.) I will not take upon me to defend this passage from the charge lạid against it of bombast and fuftian, but will only observe, if we read it in that light it is perhaps one of the finest rants to be found in any author, Mr. Warburton attempts to clear it from the charge, and observes, expression be sublime and daring, yet the thought is the natura! movement of an heroic mind. Euripides, at least, (as he adds) thought so, when he put the very fame sentiment, in the fame words, into the mouth of Eteocles,'
ACTII. SCENE VI.
Lady Piercy's pathetick Speech to her Husband.
(5) O my good lord, why are you thus alone? For what offence have I this fort-night been A banish'd woman from my Harry's bed? Tell me, sweet lord, what is't that takes from thee Thy stomach, pleasure, and thy golden fleep? Why dost thou bend thy eyes upon the earth, And start so often, when thou sitt'st alone ? Why haft thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks, And given my treasures, and my rights of thee, To thick-ey'd musing, and curs'd melancholy? In thy faint flumbers I' by thee have watcht, And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars : Speak terms of manage to thy bounding feed ; Cry, courage ! to the field! and thou hast talk'd Of fallies, and retires ; of trenches, tents, Of palisadoes, fortins, parapets ; Of basiliks, of cannon, culverin, Of prisoner's ransom, and of soldiers slain, And all the current of a heady fight. Thy spirit within thee hath been fo at war, And thus hath so beftirr'd thee in thy sleep, That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow, Like bubbles in a late disturbed stream: And in thy face strange motions have appear'd, Such as we fee, when men restrain their breath On some great sudden hafte. O, what portents are
these ! Some heavy business hath my lord in hand, And I must know it, else he loves me not.
(s) See Portia's speech to Brutus in Julius Cæfar, A& II. Scene III,
ACT III. SCENE I.
Hot. So it would have done
Diseased nature oftentimes breaks forth In strange eruptions ; and the teeming earth Is with a kind of cholick pinch'd and vext, By the imprisoning of unruly wind Within her womb; which, for enlargement friving, Shakes the old beldame earth, and topples down High tow'rs and mois-grown steeples.
On miserable Rhymers. (7) I had rather be a kitten, and cry, mew! Than one of these fame meeter-ballad-mongers :
(6) I blame, &c.] Glendower was mightily fuperftitious, he adds afterwards
Give me leave
I am not in the roll of common men. (7) I bad, &c.] Horace in his art of poetry, speaking of poctAfers, says į
I'd rather hear a brazen candlestick turn'd,
Puntuality in Bargain.
I'll give thrice so much land
A Husband sung to sleep by a fair Wife.
She bids you
(8) All on the wanton rushes lay you down, And rest your gentle head upon her lap,
Ut mala, &c.
Than poetasters in their raging fits.
'Tis hard to say, whether for sacrilege,
(8) She bids, &c.] There is something extremely tender and pleafing in these lines, as well as in the following, from Philafter, which justly deserve to be compared with them :
And she will fing the song that pleaseth you,
Who fhall now tell you
AZ. 3. latter endo
(9) As is, &c.] It is remarkable of Milton, that whenever he can have an opportunity, he takes particular notice of the evening twilight, but I don't at present recollect any passage where lie describes this morning-twilight, which Shakespear so beautifully hints at : nothing can exceed this lovely description in the 4th book of his Paradise Loft.
Now came ftill evening on, and twilight gray
And o'er the dark her filver mantle threw. The reader will be agreeably entertain'd, if he refers to the pasfage in Dr. Newton's Edition of Miltox,