or between

  Brutus. “No man bears sorrow better.—­Portia is dead.”

  Cassius. “How ’scaped I killing when I crossed you so!”

  Julius Caesar, Act iv.  Sc. 3.

which will perhaps better suit the object that I have in view.  The editors whose notes I have examined probably thought the connexion so self-evident or insignificant as not to require either notice or explanation.  If so, I differ from them, and I therefore offer the following remarks for the amusement rather than for the instruction of those who, like myself, are not at all ashamed to confess that they cannot read Shakspeare’s music “at sight.”  I believe that both Replies contain an allusion to the fact that Anger, grafted on sorrow, almost invariably assumes the form of frenzy; that it is in every sense of the word “Madness,” when the mind is unhinged, and reason, as it were, totters from the effects of grief.

Cassius had but just mildly rebuked Brutus for making no better use of his philosophy, and now—­startled by the sudden sight of his bleeding, mangled heart—­“Portia is—­Dead!” pays involuntary homage to the very philosophy he had so rashly underrated by the exclamation—­

  “How ’scaped I killing when I crossed you so!”

I wish, if possible, to support this view of the case by the following passages:—­

  I. Romeo’s address to Balthasar. 
      “But if thou ... roaring sea.”

  II.  His address to Paris. 
      “I beseech thee youth ... away!”

  Romeo and Juliet, Act v.  Sc. 3.

III.  “The poor father was ready to fall down dead; but he grasped the broken oar which was before him, jumped up, and called in a faltering voice,—­’Arrigozzo!  Arrigozzo!’ This was but for a moment.  Receiving no answer, he ran to the top of the rock; looked at all around, ran his eye over all who were safe, one by one, but could not find his son among them.  Then seeing the count, who had so lately been finding fault {276} with his son’s name, he roared out,—­’Dog, are you here?’ And, brandishing the broken oar, he rushed forward to strike him on the head.  Bice uttered a cry, Ottorino was quick in warding off the blow; in a minute, Lupo, the falconer, and the boatmen, disarmed the frantic man; who, striking his forehead with both hands, gave a spring, and threw himself into the lake.

    “He was seen fighting with the angry waves, overcoming them with
    a strength and a courage which desperation alone can
    give.”—­Marco Viconti, vol. i. chap. 5.

IV.  A passage that has probably already occurred to the mind of the reader, Mucklebackit mending the cable in which his son had been lost: