The last words, as sustaining the rhyme, must be considered, as in fact they are, trochees in time.
It may be worth while to give some correct examples in English of the principle metrical feet:-
Pyrrhic or Dibrach, u u = _body_, _spirit_.
Tribrach, u u u = _n.o.body_, hastily p.r.o.nounced.
Iambus, u - = _delight_.
Trochee, - u = _lightl?_.
Spondee, - - = _G.o.d spake_.
The paucity of spondees in single words in English, and indeed in the modern languages in general, makes perhaps the greatest distinction, metrically considered, between them and the Greek and Latin.
Dactyl, - u u = _merril?_.
Anapaest, u u - = _a propos_, or the first three syllables of _ceremony_.
Amphibrachys, u - u = _delightful_.
Amphimacer, - u - = _over hill_.
Antibacchius, u - = _the Lord G.o.d_.
Bacchius, - - u = _Helvell?n_.
Molossus, - - - = _John James Jones_.
These simple feet may suffice for understanding the metres of Shakespeare, for the greater part at least;-but Milton cannot be made harmoniously intelligible without the composite feet, the Ionics, Paeons, and Epitrites.
_Ib._ sc. 2. t.i.tania"s speech (Theobald, adopting Warburton"s reading):-
"Which she, with pretty and with swimming gate _Follying_ (her womb then rich with my young squire) Would imitate," &c.
Oh! oh! Heaven have mercy on poor Shakespeare, and also on Mr. Warburton"s mind"s eye!
Act v. sc. 1. Theseus" speech (Theobald):-
"And what poor [_willing_] duty cannot do, n.o.ble respect takes it in might, not merit."
To my ears it would read far more Shakespearian thus:-
"And what poor duty cannot do, _yet would_, n.o.ble respect," &c.
_Ib._ sc. 2.-
"_Puck._ Now the hungry lion roars, And the wolf behowls the moon; Whilst the heavy ploughman snores All with weary task foredone," &c.
Very Anacreon in perfectness, proportion, grace, and spontaneity! So far it is Greek;-but then add, O! what wealth, what wild ranging, and yet what compression and condensation of, English fancy! In truth, there is nothing in Anacreon more perfect than these thirty lines, or half so rich and imaginative. They form a speckless diamond.
"Comedy Of Errors."
The myriad-minded man, our, and all men"s Shakespeare, has in this piece presented us with a legitimate farce in exactest consonance with the philosophical principles and character of farce, as distinguished from comedy and from entertainments. A proper farce is mainly distinguished from comedy by the licence allowed, and even required, in the fable, in order to produce strange and laughable situations. The story need not be probable, it is enough that it is possible. A comedy would scarcely allow even the two Antipholuses; because, although there have been instances of almost indistinguishable likeness in two persons, yet these are mere individual accidents, _casus ludentis naturae_, and the _verum_ will not excuse the _inverisimile_. But farce dares add the two Dromios, and is justified in so doing by the laws of its end and const.i.tution. In a word, farces commence in a postulate, which must be granted.
"As You Like It."
Act i. sc. 1.
"_Oli._ What, boy!
_Orla._ Come, come, elder brother, you are too young in this.
_Oli._ Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain?"
There is a beauty here. The word "boy" naturally provokes and awakens in Orlando the sense of his manly powers; and with the retort of "elder brother," he grasps him with firm hands, and makes him feel he is no boy.
_Ib._-
"_Oli._ Farewell, good Charles. Now will I stir this gamester: I hope, I shall see an end of him; for my soul, yet I know not why, hates nothing more than him. Yet he"s gentle; never school"d, and yet learn"d; full of n.o.ble device; of all sorts enchantingly beloved! and, indeed, so much in the heart of the world, and especially of my own people, who best know him, that I am altogether misprised: but it shall not be so long; this wrestler shall clear all."
This has always appeared to me one of the most un-Shakespearian speeches in all the genuine works of our poet; yet I should be nothing surprised, and greatly pleased, to find it hereafter a fresh beauty, as has so often happened to me with other supposed defects of great men.-1810.
It is too venturous to charge a pa.s.sage in Shakespeare with want of truth to nature; and yet at first sight this speech of Oliver"s expresses truths, which it seems almost impossible that any mind should so distinctly, so livelily, and so voluntarily, have presented to itself, in connection with feelings and intentions so malignant, and so contrary to those which the qualities expressed would naturally have called forth. But I dare not say that this seeming unnaturalness is not in the nature of an abused wilfulness, when united with a strong intellect. In such characters there is sometimes a gloomy self-gratification in making the absoluteness of the will (_sit pro ratione voluntas!_) evident to themselves by setting the reason and the conscience in full array against it.-1818.
_Ib._ sc. 2.-
"_Celia._ If your saw yourself with _your_ eyes, or knew yourself with _your_ judgment, the fear of your adventure would counsel you to a more equal enterprise."
Surely it should be "_our_ eyes" and "_our_ judgment."
_Ib._ sc 3.-
"_Cel._ But is all this for your father?
_Ros._ No; some of it is for _my child"s father_."
Theobald restores this as the reading of the older editions. It may be so: but who can doubt that it is a mistake for "my father"s child," meaning herself? According to Theobald"s note, a most indelicate antic.i.p.ation is put into the mouth of Rosalind without reason;-and besides, what a strange thought, and how out of place and unintelligible!
Act iv. sc. 2.-
"Take thou no scorn To wear the horn, the l.u.s.ty horn; It was a crest ere thou wast born."
I question whether there exists a parallel instance of a phrase, that like this of "horns" is universal in all languages, and yet for which no one has discovered even a plausible origin.
"Twelfth Night."