A perfon fometimes is agitated at once by different paffions. The mind in this cafe vibrating like a pendulum, vents itself in / fentiments which partake of the fame vibration. This I give as a third obfervation :

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 moft unhappy woman living.

Alas! poor wenches, where are now your fortunes?

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

Henry VIII. at 3. fc. 1.

Othello. Oh devil, devil!

If that the earth could teem with woman's tears,
Each drop fhe falls, would prove a crocodile.
Out of my fight.

Desdemona. I will not stay t'offend you. [going.
Lodovico. Truly, an obedient lady:

I do befeech your Lordship, call her back.

A

Oth. Miftrefs

Def. My Lord.

VOL. II.

Y

Oth.

Oth. What would you with her, Sir?

Lod. Who, I, my Lord?

Oth. Ay; you did wish that I would make her

turn:

Sir, fhe can turn and turn, and yet go on;

ས

And turn again. And fhe can weep, Sir, weep;
And fhe's obedient: as you fay, obedient;
Very obedient-proceed you in your tears —
Concerning this, Sir, — oh well-painted passion!-
I am commanded home get you away,

I'll fend for you anon- Sir,

And will return to Venice.

I obey the mandate,

Hence, avaunt!

[Exit De/demona. Othello, act 4. sc. 6.

Emilia. Oh! my good Lord, I would speak a word with you.

Othello. Yes, 'tis Emilia-by and by- fhe's dead.

'Tis like, fhe comes to fpeak of Caffio's death;
The noife was high.-Ha, no more moving?
Still as the grave.
Shall fhe come in? were't
good?

I think fhe ftirs again - No-what's the best?
If she come in, she'll, fure, speak to my wife;
My wife! my wife! What wife? I have no wife,
Oh infupportable! oh heavy hour!

Othello, at 5. fc. 7.

A

A fourth obfervation is, that nature, which gave us paffions, and made them extremely beneficial when moderate, intended undoubtedly that they should be fubjected to the government of reafon and confcience*. It is therefore against the order of nature, that paffion in any case should take the lead in contradiction to reason and confcience. Such a ftate of mind is a fort of anarchy, which every one is afhamed of, and endeavours to hide or diffemble. Even love, however laudable, is attended with a confcious fhame when it becomes immoderate it is covered from the world, and difclosed only to the beloved object:

Et

que l'amour fouvent de remors combattu Paroiffe une foibleffe, et non une vertu.

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

O, they love least that let men know their love. Two Gentlemen of Verona, alt 1. fc. 3.

.

Hence a capital rule in the representation of ftrong paffions, that their genuine fentiments

See chap. 2. part 7.

Y 2

ought

ought to be hid or diffembled as much as poffible. And this holds in an especial manner with respect to criminal paffions. One never counfels the commiffion 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 reprefenting the action in some favourable light. Of the propriety of fentiment upon such an occafion, Shakespear, in the Tempest, has given us a beautiful example. The subject is a propofal made by the ufurping Duke of Milan to Sebaftian, to murder his brother the King of Naples.

Antonio.

What might

no more.

Worthy Sebastian O, what might

And yet, methinks, I fee it in thy face,

What thou should'ft be: th'occasion speaks thee,

and

My strong imagination fees a crown

Dropping upon thy head.

At 2. Sc. I.

There cannot be a finer picture of this fort, than that of King John foliciting 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 bofom, dearly cherished.
Give me thy hand, I had a thing to say
But I will fit it with fome better time.
By Heaven, Hubert, I'm almost asham'd
To fay what good refpect I have of thee.
Hubert. I am much bounden to your Majesty.
K. John. Good friend, thou haft no cause to
say so yet

But thou shalt have-and creep time ne'er fo flow,
Yet it shall come for me to do thee good.

I had a thing to fay-but, let it

go:

The 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 drowfy race of night;
If this fame were a church-yard where we stand,
And thou poffeffed with a thousand wrongs;
Or if that furly fpirit Melancholy

Had bak'd thy blood and made it heavy-thick,
Which else runs tickling up and down the veins,

Making