Sports are more gamesome; am I yet in merri ment? Why dost not laugh? Bass. Divine and best of ladies, Please to forget my outrage; mercy ever Which once appeared imposture, and then juggled Org. Was I in earnest ? Pen. Sure, if we were all sirens, we should sing pitifully, And 'twere a comely music, when in parts Sticks on my head but, like a leaden plummet, Ith. But thou, Penthea, Hast many years, I hope, to number yet, Bass. Let the sun first Be wrapp'd up in an everlasting darkness, Org. Wisdom, look ye, Begins to rave!-art thou mad too, antiquity? Pen. Since I was first a wife, I might have been Mother to many pretty prattling babes; They would have smiled when I smiled; and, for certain, I should have cried when they cried :-truly, bro ther, My father would have pick'd me out a husband, Bass. Fall on me, if there be a burning Ætna, And bury me in flames! sweats, hot as sulphur, Boil through my pores:-affliction hath in store No torture like to this. Org. Behold a patience! Lay by thy whining gray dissimulation,' 9 Lay by thy whining gray dissimulation.] This beautiful expression is happily adopted by Milton, the great plunderer of the poetical hive of our old dramatists. "He ended here, and Satan, bowing low Par. Reg. His It would appear from the next speech, that the unsuspicious Ithocles supposed Orgilus to address Bassanes, in this rant, in order to incite him to wreak vengeance on himself for his cruelty to Penthea; but the covert object of it is evidently Ithocles. Ith. Orgilus, forbear. Bass. Disturb him not; it is a talking motion Provided for my torment. What a fool am I To bawdy passion! ere I'll speak a word, I will look on and burst. Pen. I loved you once. [To ORG. Org. Thou didst, wrong'd creature in despite of malice, For it I'll love thee ever. Pen. Spare your hand; Believe me, I'll not hurt it. Org. My heart too." Pen. Complain not though I wring it hard: I'll kiss it; Oh, 'tis a fine soft palm!—hark, in thine ear; Like whom do I look, prithee?-nay, no whis pering. Goodness! we had been happy; too much hap piness Will make folk proud, they say-but that is he- Org. My heart too.] Here is some mistake of the press, which I cannot pretend to rectify. The 4to reads― Org. Paine my heart to I have little doubt that a line has been dropt, containing the conclusion of Orgilus' speech, and the commencement of Penthea's, whose name does not appear in the text. My arrangement pretends to nothing more than rendering the passage intelligible. I found my wits; but truly you lost yours. That's he, and still 'tis he. [Again pointing to ITH. Ith. Poor soul, how idly Her fancies guide her tongue! Bass. Keep in, vexation, And break not into clamour. Org. She has tutor❜d me ;' [Aside. Some powerful inspiration checks my laziness: Now let me kiss your hand, griev'd beauty. Pen. Kiss it. Alack, alack, his lips be wonderous cold ; If this be madness, madness is an oracle. [Exit. Chris. Sir, not these ten days. Phil. We watch by her continually; besides, You may live well, and die a good old man: If you had join'd our hands once in the temple, 2 She has tutor'd me.] i. e. by repeatedly pointing out Ithocles to his resentment. What plan of vengeance Orgilus had previously meditated, we know not; but the deep and irresistible pathos of this most afflicting scene evidently gives a deadly turn to his wrath. ('Twas since my father died, for had he lived Oh, my wreck'd honour!' ruin'd by those tyrants, With taste of sustenance! starve; let that ful ness Whose pleurisy hath fever'd faith and modestyForgive me; Oh! I faint. [Falls into the arms of her attendants. Arm. Be not so wilful, Sweet niece, to work thine own destruction. Ith. Nature Will call her daughter, monster!-what! not eat? Refuse the only ordinary means Which are ordain'd for life? be not, my sister, 3 Oh, my wreck'd honour, &c.] The transition of Penthea from the wandering insanity which had marked the previous part of her discourse, to the deep but composed melancholy of what follows, is, surely, too sudden; and may seem to throw some suspicion on the reality-not of her sufferings and despair, for these are too strongly marked for doubt-but, of her aberration of mind: and, indeed, it cannot be concealed that this lovely and interesting woman bas a spice of selfishness in her grief; and approaches somewhat too nearly to Orgilus in the unforgiving part of his character. Even her last words are expressive of resentment. Ꮓ |