I return to my fubject from a digreffion I cannot repent of. That perfect harmony which ought to fubfift among all the constituent parts of a dialogue, is a beauty, not lefs rare than confpicuous as to expreffion in particular, were I to give instances, where, in one or other of the respects above mentioned, it corresponds not precifely to the characters, paffions, and fentiments, I might from different authors collect volumes. Following therefore the method laid down in the chapter of fentiments, I shall confine my quotations to the groffer errors, which every writer ought to avoid. And, firft, of paffion expreffed in words flowing in an equal courfe without interruption. In the chapter above cited, Corneille is cenfured for the impropriety of his fentiments; and here, for the fake of truth, I am obliged to attack him a second time. Were I to give inftances from that author of the fault under confideration, I might tranfcribe whole tragedies; for he is not lefs faulty in this particular, than in paffing upon us his own thoughts as a spectator, instead of the genuine fentiments of paffion. Nor would a comparison between him and Shakefpear upon the prefent article, redound more to his honour, than the former upon the fentiments. Racine here is lefs incorrect than Corneille; and from him therefore I fhall gather a few inftances. The first shall be the description of the fea-monfter in his Phedra, given by Theramene, the companion companion of Hippolytus. Theramene is reprefented in terrible agitation, which appears from the following paffage, fo boldly figurative as not to be excufed but by violent perturbation of mind: Le ciel avec horreur voit ce monftre fauvage, Yet Theramene gives a long pompous connected description of this event, dwelling upon every minute circumstance, as if he had been only a cool fpectator: A peine nous fortions des portes des Trézéne, Imitoient fon filence, Ses gardes affligés autour de lui ranges. Il fuivoit tout penfif le chemin de Mycenes. Act 5. fc. 6. The laft fpeech of Atalide, in the tragedy of Bajazet, of the fame author, is a continued difcourse; and but a faint reprefentation of the violent paffion which forc'd her to put an end to her own life : Enfin, c'en eft donc fait. Et par mes artifices, Je fuis donc arrivée au doloureux moment, Ou je vois, par mon crime, expirer mon amant. Qu'à lui furvivre, hélas! je fuffe condamnée ? Roxane, venez tous contre moi conjurez, Tourmenter à la fois une amante eperdue; [Elle fe tue. Et prenez la vengeance enfin qui vous eft dûe. Act 5. fc. laft. Though works, not authors, are the profeffed fubject of this critical undertaking, I am tempted by the present fpeculation, to transgress once again the limits prescribed, and to venture a curfory reflection upon this justly-celebrated author, That he is always fenfible, generally correct, never falls low, maintains a moderate de gree gree of dignity without reaching the fublime, paints delicately the tender paffions, but is a ftranger to the genuine language of enthufiaftic or fervid paffion. If in general the language of violent paffion ought to be broken and interrupted, foliloquies ought to be fo in a peculiar manner: language is intended by nature for fociety; and a man when alone, though he always clothes his thoughts in words, feldom gives his words utterence, unless when prompted by fome ftrong emotion; and even then by starts and intervals only*. Shakespear's foliloquies may be justly established as a model; for it is not eafy to conceive any model more perfect: of his many incomparable foliloquies, I confine myself to the two following, being different in their manner. Hamlet. Oh, that this too too folid flesh would melt, Thaw, and refolve itself into a dew! Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd His cannon 'gainst felf flaughter! O God! O God! Seem to me all the uses of this world! Fie on't! O fie! 'tis an unweeded garden, That grows to feed: things rank and grofs in nature Poffefs it merely. — That it should come to this! But two months dead, nay not fo much; not two → So excellent a king, that was, to this, Hyperion to a fatyr: fo loving to my mother, That he permitted not the winds of heav'n Soliloquies accounted for, chap. 15. Vifit her face too roughly. Heav'n and earth! By what it fed on; yet, within a month Let me not think, Frailty, thy name is Woman! A little month, or ere thofe fhoes were old, With which the follow'd my poor father's body, Like Niobe, all tears why fhe, ev'n fhe (O heav'n! a beast that wants difcourfe of reafon Would have mourn'd longer) married with mine uncle, My father's brother; but no more like my father Ere Within a month yet the falt of most unrighteous tears Had left the flushing in her gauled eyes, She married Oh, moft wicked fpeed, to poft It is not, nor it cannot come to good. But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue. Hamlet, act 1. fc. 3. Ford. Hum! ha! is this a vifjon? is this a dream? do I fleep? Mr Ford, awake; awake Mr Ford; there's a hole made in your best coat, Mr Ford! this 'tis to be married! this 'tis to have linen and buck baskets! Well, I will proclaim myself what I am; I will now take the leacher; he is at my house; he cannot 'scape me; 'tis impoffible he should; he cannot creep into a half-penny purse, nor into a pepper-box. But left the devil that guides him fhould aid him, I will fearch impoffible places; though what I am I cannot avoid, yet to be what I would not, fhall not make me tame. Merry Wives of Windsor, act 3. fc. laft. Thefe foliloquies are accurate copies of nature: |