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the shadow before she sees the beast (a fine idea !), nor does she in Ovid. In both poets it is a lioness seen by moonlight.
“ With bloody mouth, of strangling of a beast.”
Metam., lib. iv., v. 97.
10 “Stood Dido with a willow in her hand.”—The willow, a symbol of being forsaken, is not in Chaucer. It looks as if Shakspeare had seen it in a picture, where it would be more necessary than in a poem.
11 “ Medea gather'd the enchanted herbs.”—Shakspeare has here gone from Chaucer to Gower. Warton, in his Observations on the Faerie Queene, vol. i., p. 361, edit. 1807, has noticed a passage in Gower's story, full of imagination. The poet is speaking of Medea going out upon the business noticed by Shakspeare.
Thus it fell upon a night,
She glode* forth, as an adder doth. 12 “ There's not the smallest orb.”—The “warbler of wood-notes wild” has here manifestly joined with Plato and other learned spirits to suggest to Milton his own account of the Music of the Spheres, which every reader of taste, I think, must agree with Mr. Knight in thinking “less perfect in sentiment and harmony.”—Pictorial Shakspeare, vol. ii., p. 448. The best thing in it is what is observed by Warton : that the listening to the spheres is the recreation of the Genius of the Wood (the speaker) after his day's duty, “when he world is locked up in sleep and silence.”
* Glode, is glided. If Chauser's contemporary had written öften inus, his name would have been as famous.
Then listen I
Arcades, v. 62.
The best account I remember to have read of the Music of the Spheres is in the History of Music by Hawkins.
13 “ Dear lady, welcome home.”—Never was a sweeter or more fitting and bridal elegance, than in ihe whole of this scene, in which gladness and seriousness prettily struggle, each alternately yielding predominance to the other. The lovers are at once in heaven and earth. The new bride is “ drawn home” with the soul of love in the shape of music; and to keep her giddy spirits down, she preached that little womanly sermon upon a good deed shining in a “ naughty world.” The whole play is, in one sense of the word, the most picturesque in feeling of all Shakspeare's. The sharp and malignant beard of the Jew (himself not unrecon. ciled to us by the affections) comes harmlessly against the soft cheek of love.
ANTONY AND THE CLOUDS.
Ant. Eros, thou yet behold'st me?
Ant. Sometime we see a cloud thaťs drag: nish:
Eros. Ay, my lord.
Ant That which is now a horse, even with a thought
Eros. It does, my lord.
Ant. My good knave, Eros, now thy captain is
Hotspur. My cousin Vernon! welcome, by my soul !
Sir Richard Vernon. Pray God, my news be worth a welcome, lord The Earl of Westmoreland, seven thousand strong, Is marching hitherwards; with him, Prince John.
Hot. No harm : what more?
Ver. And further, I have learn’d, -
Hot. He shall be welcome too. Where is his son,
Ver. All furnish’d, all in arms,
Hot. No more, no more; worse than the sun in March,
All hot, and bleeding, will we offer them;
14 “ Harry to Harry shall, hot horse to horse.”-I cannot help think. ing that the word hot in this line ought to be not. « Hot horse to horse" is not a very obvious mode of speech, and it is too obvi. ous an image. The horses undoubtedly would be hot enough. But does not Hotspur mean to say that the usual shock of horses will not be sufficient for the extremity of his encounter with the Prince of Wales; their own bodies are to be dashed together, and not merely the horses :
24 Harry to Harry shall, not horse to horse :
so closely does he intend that their combat shall hug.
IMOGEN IN BED.
(Jachimo, dared by Imogen's husband to make trial of her fidelity, hides
in her chamber in order to bring away pretended proofs against it.)
Imo. (reading in bed.) Who's there ? my woman Helen?
Imo. I have read three hours then: mine eyes are weak
Guard me, I beseech ye !
[Sleeps. JACHIMO, from the trunk. Jach. The crickets sing, and man's o'er-labor'd sense Repairs itself by rest : our Tarquin thus Did softly press the rushes, ere he waken'd The chastity he wounded. --Cytherea, How bravely thou com’st thy bed ! fresh lily, And whiter than the sheets ! that I might touch! But kiss; one kiss !-Rubies unparagon'd, How dearly they do 't-'Tis her breathing that Perfumes the chamber thus :the flame othe taper Bows towards her; and would under-peep her lids, To see the enclosed lights ; now canopied Under those windows, white and azure, lac'd With blue of heaven's own tint. But my design To note the chamber, I will write all down : Such and such pictures :-there the window : such The adornment of her bed :—the arras, figures, Why, such and such,-and the contents o' the story. Ah, but some natural notes about her body Above ten thousand meaner movables Would testify, to enrich mine inventory. O sleep, thou ape of Death, lie dull upon her! And be her sense but as a monument, Thus in a chapel lying !—Come off, come off;
[Takes off her bracelet. As slippery, as the Gordian knot was hard ! 'Tis mine, and this will witness outwardly, As strongly as the conscience does within, To the madding of her lord. On her left broast, A mole, cinque-spotted, like the crimson drops l' the bottom of a cowslip. Here's a voucher, Stronger than ever law could make: this secret Will force him think I have pick'd the lock, and ta’en The treasure of her honor. No more. To what end ? Why should I write this down that's riveted, Screw'd, to my memory? She hath been reading late The tale of Tereus; here the leaf's turn'd down Where Philomel gave up :-I have enough :To the trunk again, and shut the spring of it. Swift, swift, you dragons of the night, that dawning May bare the raven's eye! I lodge in fear; Though this a heavenly angel, hell is here.
[Clock strikes. One, two, three,-Time, time!
[Goes into the trunk. The scene close