O Lymoges, O Auftria! thou dost shame That bloody spoil: thou flave, thou wretch, thou coward, Thou little valiant, great in villany! What a fool art thou, A ramping fool, to brag, to stamp and swear Upon my party; thou cold blooded flave, Haft thou not spoke like thunder on my fide? Does the anxious heart lament its loft peace? O gentle fleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eye-lids down, And steep my fenfes in forgetfulness? Why rather, Sleep, ly'ft thou in fmoaky cribs, Upon uneafie pallets ftretching thee, And And hufht with buzzing nightflies to thy flumber; Than in the perfum'd chambers of the Great, Under the canopies of coftly state, And lull'd with founds of sweetest melody? K. H. IVth. MARK, how the terrors of a guilty mind echo thro' these lines O it is monftrous! monftrous! Methought the billows spoke, and told me of it; The winds did fing it to me, and the thun der, That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pro nounc'd The name of Profper Tempest. WOULD WOULD YOU compare, Afpafia, the tender breathings of a Lover, with the bold. and fwelling tones of a foldier? All on the wanton rushes lay you down, And reft your gentle head upon her lap; And fhe will fing the fong that pleaseth you; And on your eye-lids crown the God of fleep; Charming your blood with pleasing heavi nefs; Making fuch difference betwixt wake and sleep, As is the difference betwixt day and night, The hour before the heavenly-harness'd team Begins his golden progress in the east. IN In agreement with the ideas, the poet has drawn out thefe lines into a languid mo notony. Othello, Otbetto. Farewel the plumed troops, and the big war, That make ambition virtue! Oh, farewell! Farewel the neighing fteed, and the shrill trump, The fpirit ftirring drum, th' ear piercing fife, war; And, oh, you mortal engines, whose rude throats Th' immortal Jove's dread clamours coun terfeit, Farewell!-Othello's occupation's gone. Afp. That clofe, Eugenio, was happy. Or, is it, that the change in your voice has given that effect to the verse? Eug. The voice of a Garrick cannot lend beauties to Shakespear; it is no fmall praise that that he can do him juftice. When fuch contrafts as thefe, which I have brought together, are made to fucceed each other suddenly, and in the fame breath, fo that we immediately feel the tranfitions; then, the several parts have, not only the intrinfic beauties of musical imitation, but likewife a relative advantage from their com parison one with the other; and this may, with some allowance, be called the clearobfcure of harmony. The following paffage, in Cymbeline, is a proof and illuf tration of what I have advanced. Bellarius. O! thou Goddess, Thou divine nature! how thyself thou blazon❜ft In these two princely boys! they are as gentle As |