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A person sometimes is agitated at once by different passions. The mind in this case vibrating like a pendulum, vents itself in sentiments which partake of the same vibration. This I give as a third observation :

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Queen. 'Would I had never trod this English

earth, Or felt the flatteries that

grow upon

it! Ye've angels faces, but Heav'n knows

your

hearts,
What shall become of me now! wretched lady!
I am the most unhappy woman living.
Alas!
poor wenches, where are now your fortunes?

[To her women.
Shipwreck'd upon a kingdom, where no pity,
No friends, no hope! no kindred weep for me!
Almost, no grave allow'd me.

Henry VIII. a£t 3. sc. 5,

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Oibello. Oh devil, devil!
If that the earth could teem with woman's tears,
Each drop she falls, would

prove

crocodile. Qut of my light.

Desdemona. I will not stay t'offend you. [going.

Lodovico. Truly, an obedient lady:
I do beseech your Lordship, call her back.

Orb. Mistress
Des. My Lord
Vol. II.

Y

Olk.

Oih. What would you with her, Sir?
Lod. Who, I, my Lord ?
Oib. Ay; you did wish that I would make her

turn:

Sir, she can turn and turn, and yet go on;
And turn again. And she can weep, Sir, weep;
And she's obedient : as you say, obedient;
Very obedient - proceed you in your tears —
Concerning this, Sir, — oh well-painted passion !
I am commanded home

- get you away, I'll send for you anon— Sir, I obey the mandate, And will return to Venice. - Hence, avaunt!

[Exit Desdemona. Oibello, act 4, Jc. 6.

Æmilia. Oh! my good Lord, I would speak a

word with you. Qtbello. Yes, 'tis Æmilia — by and by- she's

dead. 'Tis like, she comes to speak of Cassio’s death ; The noise was high.— Ha, no more moving? Still as the grave.

Shall she come in? were't good? I think she stirs again - No-- what's the best? If she come in, she'll, sure, speak to my wife; My wife! my wife! What wife? I have no wife, Oh insupportable! oh heavy hour !

Orbello, at 5. sc. 7.

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A fourth observation is, that nature, which gave us passions, and made them extremely beneficial when moderate, intended undoubtedly that they should be subjected to the government of reason and conscience * It is therefore against the order of nature, that passion in any case should take the lead in contradiction to reason and conscience. Such a state of mind is a sort of anarchy, which every one is ashamed of, and endeavours to hide or diffemble. Even love, however laudable, is attended with a conscious shame when it becomes immoderate: it is covered from the world, and difclosed only to the beloved object :

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Et
que

l'amour souvent de remors combattu
Paroisse une foiblesse, et non une vertu.

Boileau, L'art poet, chant. 3. I. 101.

O, they love least that let men know their love.

Two Gentlemen of Verona, aEt 1. sc. 3.

Hence a capital rule in the representation of strong passions, that their genuine sentiments

* See whap. 2. part 7.

'Y 2

ought ought to be hid or dissembled as much as possible. And this holds in an especial manner with respect to criminal passions. One never counfels the commission of a crime in plain terms.

Guilt must not appear in its native colours, even in thought: the propofal must be made by hints, and by representing the action in some favourable light. Of the propriety of sentiment upon such an occasion, Shakespear, in the Tempeft, has given us a beautiful example. The subject is a proposal made by the usurping Duke of Milan to Sebastian, to murder his brother the King of Naples.

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Antonio.

What might Worthy Sebastian -Q, what might — no more. And yet, methinks, I see it in thy face, What thou should'st be : th’occasion speaks thee,

and My strong imagination sees a crown Dropping upon thy head.

At 2. sc. I. There cannot be a finer picture of this fort, than that of King John soliciting Hubert to murder the young Prince Arthur.

K. John.

K. John. Come hither, Hubert. O my gentle

Hubert, ...;"!
We owe thee much; within this wall of flesh
There is a foul counts thee her creditor,
And with advantage means to pay thy love,
And, my good friend, thy voluntary oath
Lives in this bosom, dearly cherished.
Give me thy hand, I had a thing to say
But I will fit it with some better time.
By Heaven, Hubert, I'm almost alham'd
To say what good refpe& I have of thee.

Hubert. I am much bounden to your Majesty.
K. John. Good friend, thou hast no cause to

fay so yet
But thou shalt have—and creep time ne'er follow,
Yet it shall come for me to do thee good.
I had a thing to say, but, let it go :

e fun is in the heav'n, and the proud day, Attended with the pleasures of the world, Is all too wanton, and too full of gawds, To give me audience. If the midnight-bell Did with his iron tongue and brazen mouth. Sound one into the drowsy race of night; If this same were a church-yard where we stand, And thou possessed with a thousand wrongs; . Or if that surly spirit Melancholy Had bak'd thy blood and made it heavy-thick, Which else runs tickling up and down the veins,

Making

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