See also the two next stanzas, and particularly that divine one beginning
Her armes small, her back both straight and soft, &c.
Compare this with the following speech of Troilus to Cressida in the play.
O, that I thought it
could be in a woman;
And if it can, I will
presume in you,
To feed for aye her
lamp and flame of love,
To keep her constancy
in plight and youth,
Out-living beauties
outward, with a mind
That doth renew swifter
than blood decays.
Or, that persuasion
could but thus convince me,
That my integrity and
truth to you
Might be affronted with
the match and weight
Of such a winnow’d
purity in love;
How were I then uplifted!
But alas,
I am as true as Truth’s
simplicity,
And simpler than the
infancy of Truth.
These passages may not seem very characteristic at first sight, though we think they are so. We will give two, that cannot be mistaken. Patroclus says to Achilles;
—Rouse yourself;
and the weak wanton Cupid
Shall from your neck
unloose his amorous fold,
And like a dew-drop
from the lion’s mane,
Be shook to air.
Troilus, addressing the God of Day on the approach of the morning that parts him from Cressida, says with much scorn:
What! proffer’st
thou thy light here for to sell?
Go, sell it them that
smalle seles grave.
If nobody but Shakespeare could have written the former, nobody but Chaucer would have thought of the latter.—Chaucer was the most literal of poets, as Richardson was of prose-writers.
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
This is a very noble play. Though not in the first class of Shakespeare’s productions, it stands next to them, and is, we think, the finest of his historical plays, that is, of those in which he made poetry the organ of history, and assumed a certain tone of character and sentiment, in conformity to known facts, instead of trusting to his observations of general nature or to the unlimited indulgence of his own fancy. What he has added to the history, is upon a par with it. His genius was, as it were, a match for history as well as nature, and could grapple at will with either. This play is full of that pervading comprehensive power by which the poet could always make himself master of time and circumstances. It presents a fine picture of Roman pride and Eastern magnificence: and in the struggle between the two, the empire of the world seems suspended, ’like the swan’s down-feather:
That stands upon the
swell at full of tide,
And neither way inclines.’