This night, wherein the (14) cub-drawn bear would couch, The lion, and the belly-pinched wolf Keep their furr dry; unbonneted he runs, SCENE II. Lear's passionate Exclamations amidfi the Tempest. Blow winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow! You cataracts, and hurricanoes, spout Till you have drencht our steeples, drown'd the cocks! You fulph'rous and thought-executing fires, (15) Vaunt-couriers of oak-cleaving thunderbolts, Singe my white head. And thou, all fhaking thunder, Strike flat the thick rotundity o' th' world; Crack nature's mould, all (16) germins fpill at once That make ingrateful man. Rumble thy belly-full, fpit fire, fpout rain; Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire, are my daughters; I tax (14) Gub-drawn.] i. e. Drawn dry by its cubs, and therefore the more ready to go out in fearch of prey; he speaks of a lionefs with udders all drawn dry, in the play of As you like it. (15) Vaunt-couriers, &c.] Nothing can be plainer than this Ipailage, which it is furprifing Mr. Warburton fhould fo much mistake, as to imagine this line the players [purious issue, on account of any contradiction in it; the Reader may fee his note, and Mr. Edwards's comment upon it, in the Canons of Criticism, P. 33. In the mean time we may be contented with this clear fenfe "You fires and lightnings, fore-runners of the thunder, finge me, &c.- -You thunder, ftrike flat the thick rotundity of the world." (16) Germins] Vulg. Germains--This reading is Mr. Theotak's. The word is derived from germen, σraça, feed,-the fenfe is, "Crack nature's mould, and fpill all the feeds of maiter, that are hoarded within it." In the Winter's Tale he fays; Let nature crush the fides of th' earth together, I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness; That have with two pernicious daughters join'd * * * * * * * * * * * * Kent. Alas, fir, are you here? things that love night, Love not fuch nights as thefe: the wrathful skies (17) Gallow the very wand'rers of the dark, And make them keep their caves: fince I was a man, Such theets of fire, fuch bursts of horrid thunder, Such groans of roaring wind and rain, I never Remember to have heard. Man's nature cannot carry Th' affliction, nor the force. Lear. Let the great gods, That keep this dreadful pudder o'er our heads, Find out their enemies now. Tremble, thou wretch That haft within thee undivulged crimes, Unwhipp'd of justice. Hide thee, thou bloody hand! Haft practis'd on man's life!-Clofe pent up guilts, Kent. Alack, bare headed? Gracious my lord, hard by here is a hovel; Some friendship will it lend you 'gainst the tempeft. * * * * * * * * * * * Lear. Thou think'st 'tis much, that this contentious ftorm Invades 17) Gallow] i. e. Scare, frighten. See the foregoing paffage, Invades us to the fkin; fo 'tis to thee; The leffer is fcarce felt. Thou❜dst shun a bear, free, When the mind's The body's delicate; the tempeft in my mind Kent. Good my lord, enter here. Lear. Pr'ythee go in thyfelf; feek thine own ease; This tempeft will not give me leave to ponder On things would hurt me more-but I'll go in, In, boy, go firft. You houseless poverty Nay, get thee in; I'll pray, and then I'll fleepPoor naked wretches, wherefoe'er you are, That bide the pelting of this pitilefs ftorm! How fhall your houfelefs heads, and unfed fides, Your loop'd and window'd raggedness defend you From feafons fuch as these?—O, I have ta’en Too little care of this! take phyfic, pomp; Expofe thyfelf to feel what wretches feel, That thou mayft shake the fuperflux to them, And fhew the heavens more juft. Enter Edgar, difguis'd like a Madman Edg. Away! the foul fiend follows me. fharp hawthorn blows the cold wind. thy bed and warm thee. Through the Humph, go to Lear. Lear. Didit thou give all to thy daughters? and art thou come to this? * * * * * * * * * * Didst thou give them all ? Now all the plagues that in the pendulous air Hang fated o'er mens' faults, light on thy daughters! Kent. He hath no daughters fir. Lear. Death! traitor, nothing could have subdu'd nature To fuch a lowness, but his unkind daughters. SCENE VI. On Man. (19) Is man no more than this? Confider him well. Thou ow'ft the worm no filk, the beaft no hide, the fheep no wool, the cat no perfume. Ha! here's three of us are sophisticated. Thou art the thing itself: unaccommodated man is no more but fuch a poor, bare, forked animal as thou art. Off, off, you lendings: come unbutton here. Makes thee the happier: heavens deal so still! Let (18) I have given the Reader all the most beautiful paffages of this celebrated part of the tragedy, and have avoided any comments on it, as its beauties are fo ftriking, and fo generally commended; however, if he thinks proper, he may, by confulting Mr. Smith's tranflation of Longinus, find fome obfervations there, not unworthy his regard. See the 3d note on the oth fection. (19) Is man, &c.] See Measure for Measure. Let the fuperfluous and luft-dieted man, (20) That flaves your ordinance, that will not fee Because he does not feel, feel your power quickly ; So diftribution fhould undo excess, And each man have enough. SCENE III. Patience and Sorrow. Patience and forrow ftrove Which fhould exprefs her geodlieft: you have feen Sunshine and rain at once: her fmiles and tears (21) Were like a better day. Those happiest smiles, That (20) That flaves, &c.] Mr. Warburton is for reading, braves here but he ftill forgets how frequently Shakespear makes verbs of fubftantives, and inftead of endeavouring to explain his author's words, immediately has recourfe to the easy art of altering, when there is any difficulty: by faves your ordinance, the poet means, makes a flave of your ordinance: "makes it fubfervient, as Mr. Upton obferves, to his fuperfluities and lufts." (21) Were like a bitter day.] So the old editions read; Mr. Warburton fays, "without question we should read, A wetter May i. e. "a fpring-feason wetter than ordinary; I cannot come into his opinion; nor by any means apprehend, how her fmiles and tears can with any propriety be compared to a fpring-feason, wetter than ordinary: the poet is comparing her patience and forrow, expreft, the one by fmiles, the other by tears, to a day, wherein there is both funfhine and rain at the fame time: you have feen, fays he, funfbine and rain at once; fuch was her patience and forrow: her fmiles and tears were like a day fo chequer'd, when the rain and the funshine contended as it were together. This I apprehend to be the fenfe of the paffage. But then what must we do with better? I own myself incapable of fixing any fenfe to it, nor does any emendation ftrike me, that the Reader perhaps will judge plaufible enough: he'll fee, I had an eye in the explaining of the paffage, on chequer'd: Her fmiles and tears |