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Here I cannot help taking notice that as the poet's want of art made it neceffary to fet the queen to prate of her former crimes, to let us into the fable; so ignorance of human nature betrayed him, in a fucceeding scene, into the enormous abfurdity of making both Rodogune and the queen without hesitation, the one advise the lover to murder his miftrefs, the other the fon to murder his mother. Here again an inftance offers itself of our Shakespear's fuperior knowledge of the heart of man. King John wishes to inftigate Hubert to kill Prince Arthur, but obferve with what difficulty he expreffes his horrid purpofe.
Come hither, Hubert. O my gentle Hubert,
By heaven, Hubert, I'm almost asham'd
To fay what good refpect I have of thee.
I am much bounden to your majesty.
Good friend, thou haft no cause to say so yet,But thou fhalt have-and creep time ne'er fo flow,
Yet it shall come for me to do thee good.
I had a thing to say-but, let it go:
Had bak'd thy blood and made it heavy-thick,
Or if thou could'ft fee me without eyes,
Without a tongue, ufing conceit alone,
The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling,
Doth glance from heav'n to earth, from earth to heav'ng
The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen
Midfummer Night's Dream.