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(2) Mail'd up in shame, with papers on my back ;
ACT III. SCENE I.
Silent Refentment deepest. * Smooth runs the water, where the brook is deep ; And in his simple fhew he harbours treason.
SCENE IV. A guilty Countenance.
Description of a murderd Perfon.
(2) Maild.] Cover'd in a sheet as a man is in a coat of mail.
Run deep and filent, till they ’re satisfied,
The Bloody Brotber, AEt 2. S. 1. (3) Being, &c.] There is some little irregularity in grammar
I have put a hyphen at blood-less, to make it the plainer; being all, i.e. all the blood being descended, &c. I cannot quite be reconciled to wko in the next line ; it may indeed be allowed; but I should rather transpose that, and read
That in the conflict which it holds with death.
He gave his Nose-
Who, in the conflict that it holds with death,
Scene VII. A good Conscience. (4) What stronger breaft-plate than a heart un
tainted ? Thrice is he arm'd, that bath his quarrel jutt ;
(4) #bat, &c.] A little before it is faid,
A heart unspotted is not eafily daunted. This sentiment is plainly shadow'd from two celebrated odes of Horace; the 22d of the first book, and the 3d of the 3d book, The first begins, Integer vitæ, &c.
From virtues laws who never parts,
Secure thro' savage realms may go, &c.
That upright man, who's steady to his trust,
And dares the tyrant's threat'ning frowns despise, &c. I only just refer the reader to them, as they are so generally known ; Horace too in his Epiftles has a fine fèntiment to this purpose :
And he but naked (though lock'd up in feel)
Scene VIII Remor seless Hatred. A Plague upon 'em! wherefore should I curse
them : Would cutses kill, as doth the Mandrake's groan, I would invent as bitter searching terms, As curst, as harsh, as horrible to hear, Deliver'd strongly through my fixed teeth, With full as many figns of deadly hate, (5) As lean-fac'd envy in her loathsome cave. My tongue should stumble in mine earnest words, Mine eyes should sparkle like the beaten flint, Mine hair be fixt on end like one distra&t : Ay, ev'ry joint should seem to curfe and ban, And even now, my barthen'd heart would break, Should I not curse them. Poison be their drink! Gall, worse than gall, the daintief meat they taste ! Their sweetest shade, a grove of Cypress trees! Their sweetest prospect, murth'ring basiliks !
Hic murus aeneus eft),
(5) As, &c.] This is as fine a picture of envy as could possibly be given in so narrow a compass : Spencer hath described her twice in his Fae. ie Queene, and in both places given us a moft loathsome picture, which Longinus would surely have greatly discommended, when we find him so severe on an author, for one line representing. a nauseous image. See his Essay on the subiime, feet. 9. See Spencer's Faerie Queene, B. 15.1.4. ft. 30. and B. 5. 1. 12. ft. 29. It may be worth while to remark, how exactly Shakespear suits his language to his characters : how different are these curfes from the mouch of Suffolk, to those, from the mouth of Caliban, in the Tempesta
Their fofteft touch, as fmart as lizard's stings!
Now by the ground that I am banish'd from,
Suff. Thus is poor Suffolk ten times banished,
(6) 'Tis not, &c ] This passage, as Mr.Whally has observed in
Qua nulla humano fit via trita pede :
Lumen, & in Solis tu mibi turba locis. L. 4. C. 126
For where thou art each sorrow flies away,
I have often lamented we have not so good a translation of thie delicate poet, and polite lover, as his excellence deserves.
SCENE IX, Dying, with the Person belov’d, pre
ferable 19 parting.
ACTIV. SCENE I.
N I G H T.
And (7) Bring, &c.] Nothing can more admirably pi&ture to us the horror of a guilty conscience, than this frantic raving of the car
When death's approach is seen so terrible--
Ah, what a sign it is of evil life! Thus hath guilt, even in this world, its due reward, and iniquity is not suffered to go unpunished: the well-weigh'ng such frightful scenes might, perhaps, be of no small seryice to such as defpife leétures from the pulpit, and laugh at the interested representation of divines,
(8) The, &c ] See the last passage in the Midsummer nigbe's dream, Spencer, speaking of night, says;