« ElőzőTovább »
No more do yours : your virtues, gentle master,
Orlan.—Why, what's the matter?
Adam.-Oh, unhappy youth,
of all your graces lives :
Orlan. Why, whither, Adam, wouldst thou have me go?
Orlan.—What, wouldst thou have me go and beg my food?
Adam.—But do not so; I have five hundred crowns,
Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty ;
my age is as a lusty winter,
old man, thou prun'st a rotten tree,
Adam.-Master, go on and I will follow thee
XI.-RICHMOND ENCOURAGING HIS SOLDIERS.
Thus far into the bowels of the land
1 In allusion to the badge of Richard, which was a silver Boar.
And he but naked, though locked up in steel,
me see some more.
1.-HOTSPUR READING A LETTER. “ But, for mine own part, my lord, I could be well contented to be there, in respect of the love I bear your house.” He could be contented to be there! Why is he not, then? “In respect of the love he bears our house.” He shows in this, he loves his own barn better than he loves our house! Let
“ The purpose you undertake is dangerous.” Why, that's certain, 'tis dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, to drink; but I tell you, my lord fool, out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety. “The purpose you undertake is dangerous; the friends you have named, uncertain; the time itself, unsorted; and your whole plot too light, for the counterpoise of so great an opposition.” Say you. so, say you so? I say unto you again, you are a shallow cowardly hind, and you lie. What a lackbrain is this ! Our plot is a good plot as ever was laid ; our friends true and constant; a good plot, good friends, and full of expectation; an excellent plot, very good friends. What a frostyspirited rogue this is! Why, my Lord of York commends the plot, and the general course of the action. By this hand, if I were now by this rascal, I could brain him with his lady's fan. Is there not my father, my uncle, and myself ? Lord Edmund Mortimer, my Lord of York, and Owen Glendower ? Is there not, besides, the Douglas? Have I not all their letters to meet me in arms by the ninth of next month? and are there not some of them set forward already? What a pagan rascal is this? an infidel !-Ha! you shall see now, in very sincerity of fear and cold heart, will he to the King, and lay open all our proceedings. Oh! I could divide myself, and go to buffets, for moving such a dish of skim-milk with so honourable an action. Hang him! let him tell the King. We are prepared, I will set forward to-night.
And how did Garrick speak the soliloquy last night? Oh, against all rule, my lord—most ungrammatically! Betwixt the substantive and the adjective, which should agree together in number, case, and gender, he made a breach thus
-stopping as if the point wanted settling; and betwixt the nominative case, which your lordship knows should govern the verb, he suspended his voice in the epilogue a dozen times, three seconds and three-fifths, by a stop-watch, my lord, each time. Admirable grammarian!
But in suspending his voice, was the sense suspended likewise? did no expression of attitude or countenance fill up the chasm? Was the eye silent ? Did you narrowly look? I Jooked only at the stop-watch, my lord. Excellent observer!
And what of this new book the whole world makes such a rout about? Oh, 'tis out of all plumb, my lord quite an irregular thing; not one of the angles at the four corners was a right angle. I had my rule and compasses, &c., my lord, in my pocket. Excellent critic!
And for the epic poem your lordship bid me look at; upon
taking the length, breadth, height, and depth of it, and trying them at home upon an exact scale of Bossu's, 'tis out, my lord, in every one of its dimensions. Admirable connoisseur!
And did you step in, to look at the grand picture in your way back? 'Tis a melancholy daub! my lord; not one principle of the pyramid in any one group! and what a price! for there is nothing of the colouring of Titian, the expression of Rubens, the grace of Raphael, the purity of Dominichino, the corregiescity of Corregio, the learning of the Poussins, the airs of Guido, the taste of the Carrachis, or the grand contour of Angelo.
Grant me patience, just heaven! Of all the cants which are canted in this canting world—though the cant of hypocrisy may be the worst, the cant of criticism is the most tormenting!
I would go fifty miles on foot to kiss the hand of that man, whose generous heart will give up the reins of his imagination into his author's hands, be pleased he knows not why, and cares not wherefore.
III.-LIBERTY AND SLAVERY.
DISGUISE thyself as thou wilt, still, Slavery! still thou art a bitter draught; and though thousands in all ages have been made to drink of thee, thou art no less bitter on that account. It is thou, Liberty! thrice sweet and gracious goddess, whom all in public or in private worship, whose taste is grateful and ever will be so, till Nature herself shall change-No tint of words can spot thy snowy mantle, or chemic power turn thy sceptre into iron- - with thee to smile
him he eats his crust the swain is happier than his monarch, from whose court thou art exiled. Gracious Heaven! grant me but health, thou great Bestower of it, and give me but this fair goddess as my companion ; and shower down thy mitres, if it seems good unto thy divine providence, upon those heads which are aching for them.