Chapter 12

"Sonnets in Dozens, or your QuatorzainsIn any rhyme, Masculine, Feminine,Or Sdruciolla, or couplets, or Blank Verse."

Sdruciollais the Italian term for triple-rimed endings.

Forthwith Fame flieth through the great Libyan towns:A mischief Fame, there is none else so swift;That moving grows, and flitting gathers force:First small for dread, soon after climbs the skies,Stayeth on earth, and hides her head in clouds.Whom our mother the Earth, tempted by wrathOf gods, begat: the last sister, they write,To Cœus, and to Enceladus eke:Speedy of foot, of wing likewise as swift,A monster huge, and dreadful to descrive.In every plume that on her body sticks,—A thing in deed much marvelous to hear,—As many waker eyes lurk underneath,So many mouths to speak, and listening ears.By night she flies amid the cloudy sky,Shrieking, by the dark shadow of the earth,Ne doth decline to the sweet sleep her eyes:By day she sits to mark on the house top,Or turrets high, and the great towns affrays;As mindful of ill and lies as blazing truth.

(Earl of Surrey:Æneid, book IV. 223-242. ab. 1540. pub. 1557.)

Surrey's translation of two books of theÆneidmay have been suggested by the translation (1541) made by Francesco Maria Molza, attributed at the time to Cardinal Ippolito de Medici. This was in Italian unrimed verse. (See Henry Morley'sFirst Sketch of English Literature, p. 294, and hisEnglish Writers, vol. viii. p. 61.) The verse of Surrey, like Wyatt's, shows a somewhat mechanical adherence to the syllable-counting principle, in contrast to regard for accents.[26]Thus we find such lines as:

"Each palace, and sacred porch of the gods.""By the divine science of Minerva."

There is a fairly free use of run-on lines; according to Schipper, 35 in the first 250 of the translation. Nevertheless, the general effect is monotonous and lacking in flexibility.

O Jove, how are these people's hearts abused!What blind fury thus headlong carries them,That, though so many books, so many rollsOf ancient time record what grievous plaguesLight on these rebels aye, and though so oftTheir ears have heard their aged fathers tellWhat just reward these traitors still receive,—Yea, though themselves have seen deep death and bloodBy strangling cord and slaughter of the swordTo such assigned, yet can they not beware,Yet cannot stay their lewd rebellious hands,But, suff'ring too foul reason to distainTheir wretched minds, forget their loyal heart,Reject all truth, and rise against their prince?

(SackvilleandNorton:Gorboduc, or Ferrex and Porrex, V. ii. 1-14. 1565.)

This tragedy, although Dryden curiously instanced it in defence of the use of rime on the stage, was the earliest English drama in blank verse. The metre is decidedly more monotonous than Surrey's, and gives little hint of the possibilities of the measure for dramatic expression. In general, the early experiments in blank verse suggest—what they must often have seemed to their writers—the mere use of the decasyllabic couplet deprived of its rime. Nevertheless, as Mr. Symonds remarks of a passage inGorboduc, "we yet may trace variety and emphasis in the pauses of these lines beyond what would at that epoch have been possible in sequences of rhymed couplets." (Blank Verse, p. 20.)

For a specimen of the blank verse of Gascoigne'sSteel Glass(1576, the earliest didactic poem in English blank verse), see p.18, above.

Paris, King Priam's son, thou art arraigned of partiality,Of sentence partial and unjust, for that without indifferency,Beyond desert or merit far, as thine accusers say,From them, to Lady Venus here, thou gavest the prize away:What is thine answer?

Paris's oration to the Council of the Gods:

Sacred and just, thou great and dreadful Jove,And you thrice-reverend powers, whom love nor hateMay wrest awry; if this, to me a man,This fortune fatal be, that I must pleadFor safe excusal of my guiltless thought,The honor more makes my mishap the less,That I a man must plead before the gods,Gracious forbearers of the world's amiss,For her, whose beauty how it hath enticed,This heavenly senate may with me aver.

(George Peele:The Arraignment of Paris, IV. i. 61-75. 1584.)

This specimen shows the new measure introduced into the drama in connection with the earlier rimed septenary. Peele's verse in general is characterized by sweetness and fluency, but there is still no hint of the possibilities of the unrimed decasyllabics.

Schröer, in the article cited fromAnglia, enumerates the following additional specimens of blank verse before the appearance of Marlowe'sTamburlaine; Grimald'sDeath of ZoroasandDeath of Cicero, in Tottel'sSongs and Sonnets, 1557;Jocasta, by Gascoigne and Kinwelmarshe, 1566; Turberville's translation of Ovid'sHeroical Epistles, 1567; Spenser's unrimed sonnets, in Van der Noodt'sTheatre for Worldlings, 1569; Barnaby Rich'sDon Simonides, 1584; parts of Lyly'sWoman in the Moon, 1584; Greene's "Description of Silvestro's Lady," inMorando, 1587;The Misfortunes of Arthur, 1587;—the last two appearing probably in the same year withTamburlaine, whether earlier or later is uncertain. Most of these specimens are short, and all are comparatively unimportant.

Now clear the triple region of the air,And let the Majesty of Heaven beholdTheir scourge and terror tread on emperors.Smile stars, that reigned at my nativity,And dim the brightness of your neighbor lamps!Disdain to borrow light of Cynthia!For I, the chiefest lamp of all the earth,First rising in the East with mild aspect,But fixed now in the Meridian line,Will send up fire to your turning spheres,And cause the sun to borrow light of you.My sword struck fire from his coat of steelEven in Bithynia, when I took this Turk;As when a fiery exhalation,Wrapt in the bowels of a freezing cloudFighting for passage, makes the welkin crack,And casts a flash of lightning to the earth.

(Marlowe:Tamburlaine, Part I, IV. ii. 30-46. pub. 1590.)

Ah, Faustus,Now hast thou but one bare hour to live,And then thou must be damned perpetually!Stand still, you ever-moving spheres of Heaven,That time may cease, and midnight never come;Fair Nature's eye, rise, rise again, and makePerpetual day; or let this hour be butA year, a month, a week, a natural day,That Faustus may repent and save his soul!O lente, lente, currite noctis equi!The stars move still, time runs, the clock will strike,The Devil will come, and Faustus must be damned.O, I'll leap up to my God! Who pulls me down?See, see where Christ's blood streams in the firmament!One drop would save my soul—half a drop: ah, my Christ!Ah, rend not my heart for naming of my Christ![27]Yet will I call on him: O spare me, Lucifer!

(Marlowe:Doctor Faustus, sc. xvi. ll. 65-81. Printed 1604; written before 1593.)

Marlowe is universally and rightly regarded as the first English poet who used blank verse with the hand of a master, and showed its possibilities. With him it became practically a new measure. Mr. Symonds says: "He found the ten-syllabled heroic line monotonous, monosyllabic, and divided into five feet of tolerably regular alternate short and long. He left it various in form and structure, sometimes redundant by a syllable, sometimes deficient, enriched with unexpected emphases and changes in the beat. He found no sequence or attempt at periods; one line succeeded another with insipid regularity, and all were made after the same model. He grouped his verse according to the sense, obeying an internal law of melody, and allowing the thought contained in his words to dominate their form....Used in this fashion, blank verse became a Proteus. It resembled music, which requires regular time and rhythm; but, by the employment of phrase, induces a higher kind of melody to rise above the common and despotic beat of time.... It is true that, like all great poets, he left his own peculiar imprint on it, and that his metre is marked by an almost extravagant exuberance, impetuosity, and height of coloring." (Blank Verse, pp. 22-27.) In the earlier verse ofTamburlaine, while showing these new qualities of a metrical master, Marlowe yet kept pretty closely to the individual, end-stopped line; in his later verse, as illustrated in the fragmentary text ofFaustus, he seems to have attained much more freedom, resembling that of the later plays of Shakspere.[28]

Is it mine eye, or Valentinus' praise,Her true perfection, or my false transgression,That makes me, reasonless, to reason thus?She's fair, and so is Julia that I love,—That I did love, for now my love is thawed,Which, like a waxen image 'gainst a fire,Bears no impression of the thing it was.Methinks my zeal to Valentine is cold,And that I love him not, as I was wont:O! but I love his lady too too much;And that's the reason I love him so little.How shall I dote on her with more advice,That thus without advice begin to love her?...If I can check my erring love, I will;If not, to compass her I'll use my skill.

(Shakspere:Two Gentlemen of Verona, II. iv. 196-208; 213, 214. ab. 1590.)

Ay, but to die, and go we know not where;To lie in cold obstruction and to rot;This sensible warm motion to becomeA kneaded clod; and the delighted spiritTo bathe in fiery floods, or to resideIn thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice;To be imprisoned in the viewless winds,And blown with restless violence aboutThe pendant world; or to be worse than worstOf those that lawless and incertain thoughtsImagine howling,—'tis too horrible!The weariest and most loathed worldly life,That age, ache, penury, and imprisonmentCan lay on nature, is a paradiseTo what we fear of death.

(Shakspere:Measure for Measure, III. i. 118-132. ab. 1603.)

This Mr. Symonds cites as "a single instance of the elasticity, self-restraint, and freshness of the Shaksperian blank verse; of its freedom from Marlowe's turgidity, or Fletcher's languor, or Milton's involution; of its ringing sound and lucid vigor.... It illustrates the freedom from adventitious ornament and the organic continuity of Shakspere's versification, while it also exhibits his power of varying his cadences and suiting them to the dramatic utterance of his characters." (Blank Verse, p. 31.)

Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and groves;And ye that on the sands with printless footDo chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly himWhen he comes back; you demi-puppets, thatBy moonshine do the green-sour ringlets make,Whereof the ewe not bites; and you, whose pastimeIs to make midnight mushrooms; that rejoiceTo hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid(Weak masters though ye be) I have bedimm'dThe noontide sun, called forth the mutinous winds,And 'twixt the green sea and the azur'd vaultSet roaring war: to the dread rattling thunderHave I given fire, and rifted Jove's stout oakWith his own bolt: the strong-bas'd promontoryHave I made shake; and by the spurs pluck'd upThe pine and cedar: graves, at my command,Have wak'd their sleepers, op'd, and let them forthBy my so potent art.

(Shakspere:The Tempest, V. i. 33-50. ab. 1610.)

No attempt can be made to represent adequately the blank verse of Shakspere. The specimens, chosen respectively from his earlier, middle, and later periods, illustrate the trend of development of his verse. In the earlier period it was characterized by the slight use of feminine endings andenjambement; in the later by marked preference for both, and by general freedom and flexibility. In other words, Shakspere's own development represents, in a sort of miniature, that of the history of dramatic blank verse. According to Furnivall's tables, the proportion of run-on lines to end-stopped lines inThe Two Gentlemen of Veronais one in ten, while inThe Tempestit is one in three. The increased use of "light" and "weak" endings is closely analogous. Professor Wendell says of the verse ofCymbeline: "End-stopped lines are so deliberately avoided that one feels a sense of relief when a speech and a line end together. Such a phrase as

'How slow his soul sail'd on, how swift his ship'

is deliberately made, not a single line, but two half-lines. Several times, in the broken dialogue, one has literally to count the syllables before the metrical regularity of the verse appears....Clearly this puzzling style is decadent; the distinction between verse and prose is breaking down." (William Shakspere, p. 357.)[29]

I, that did helpTo fell the lofty cedar of the worldGermanicus; that at one stroke cut downDrusus, that upright elm; withered his vine;Laid Silius and Sabinus, two strong oaks,Flat on the earth; besides those other shrubs,Cordus and Sosia, Claudia Pulchra,Furnius and Gallus, which I have grubbed up;And since, have set my axe so strong and deepInto the root of spreading Agrippine;Lopt off and scattered her proud branches, Nero,Drusus; and Caius too, although replanted.If you will, Destinies, that after all,I faint now ere I touch my period,You are but cruel; and I already have doneThings great enough. All Rome hath been my slave;The senate sate an idle looker-on,And witness of my power; when I have blushedMore to command than it to suffer: allThe fathers have sat ready and prepared,To give me empire, temples, or their throats,When I would ask 'em; and, what crowns the top,Rome, senate, people, all the world have seenJove but my equal; Cæsar but my second.'Tis then your malice, Fates, who, but your own,Envy and fear to have any power long known.

(Ben Jonson:Sejanus, V. iv. 1603.)

Jonson's blank verse, says Mr. Symonds, is that "of a scholar—pointed, polished, and free from the lyricisms of his age. It lacks harmony and is often labored; but vigorous and solid it never fails to be." He also instances the opening lines of theSad Shepherdas exceptional in their "delicate music." Beaumont's verse is in many ways similar in structure to Jonson's, yet commonly more melodious.

"He is all(As he stands now) but the mere name of Cæsar,And should the Emperor enforce him lesser,Not coming from himself, it were more dangerous:He is honest, and will hear you. Doubts are scattered,And almost come to growth in every household;Yet, in my foolish judgment, were this mastered,The people, that are now but rage, and his,Might be again obedience. You shall know meWhen Rome is fair again; till when, I love you."No name! This may be cunning; yet it seems not,For there is nothing in it but is certain,Besides my safety. Had not good Germanicus,That was as loyal and as straight as he is,If not prevented by Tiberius,Been by the soldiers forced their emperor?He had, and 'tis my wisdom to remember it:And was not Corbulo (even that Corbulo,That ever fortunate and living Roman,That broke the heart-strings of the Parthians,And brought Arsaces' line upon their knees,Chained to the awe of Rome), because he was thought(And but in wine once) fit to make a Cæsar,Cut off by Nero? I must seek my safety;For 'tis the same again, if not beyond it.

(Fletcher:Valentinian, IV. i. ab. 1615.)

I can but grieve my ignorance:Repentance, some say too, is the best sacrifice;For sure, sir, if my chance had been so happy(As I confess I was mine own destroyer)As to have arrived at you, I will not prophesy,But certain, as I think, I should have pleased you;Have made you as much wonder at my courtesy,My love and duty, as I have disheartened you.Some hours we have of youth, and some of folly;And being free-born maids, we take a liberty,And, to maintain that, sometimes we strain highly....A sullen woman fear, that talks not to you;She has a sad and darkened soul, loves dully;A merry and a free wench, give her liberty,Believe her, in the lightest form she appears to you,Believe her excellent, though she despise you;Let but these fits and flashes pass, she will show to youAs jewels rubbed from dust, or gold new burnished.

(Fletcher:The Wild-Goose Chase, IV. i. 1621.)

The verse of Fletcher is highly individual among the Jacobean dramatists, though in a sense typical of the breaking down of blank verse, in the direction of prose, which was going on at this period. The distinguishing feature of Fletcher's verse is the constant use of feminine endings, and the extension of these to triple and even quadruple endings, by the addition of one or more syllables. Twelve-syllable lines (not alexandrines, but ordinary lines with triple endings) are not at all uncommon; and the additional syllable or syllables may even be emphatic. In general the tendency was in the direction of the freedom of conversational prose. Such a line as

"Methinks you are infinitely bound to her for her journey"

would not be recognized, standing by itself, as a five-stress iambic verse; properly read, however, it takes its place without difficulty in the scheme of the metre.[30]

Whatever ails me, now a-late especially,I can as well be hanged as refrain seeing her;Some twenty times a day, nay, not so little,Do I force errands, frame ways and excuses,To come into her sight; and I've small reason for't,And less encouragement, for she baits me stillEvery time worse than other; does profess herselfThe cruellest enemy to my face in town;At no hand can abide the sight of me,As if danger or ill luck hung in my looks.I must confess my face is bad enough,But I know far worse has better fortune,And not endur'd alone, but doted on;And yet such pick-hair'd faces, chins like witches',Here and there five hairs whispering in a corner,As if they grew in fear of one another,Wrinkles like troughs, where swine-deformity swillsThe tears of perjury, that lie there like washFallen from the slimy and dishonest eye;Yet such a one plucks sweets without restraint.

(Thomas Middleton:The Changeling, II. i. ab. 1623.)

Middleton carried on the work of fitting blank verse for plausibly conversational, as distinguished from poetic, effects. Often his lines are more difficult to scan than Fletcher's, and still less seek melodiousness for its own sake. Characteristic specimens are verses like these:

"I doubt I'm too quick of apprehension now.""With which one gentleman, far in debt, has courted her.""To call for, 'fore me, and thou look'st half ill indeed."

What would it pleasure me to have my throat cutWith diamonds? or to be smotheredWith cassia? or to be shot to death with pearls?I know death hath ten thousand several doorsFor men to take their exits; and 'tis foundThey go on such strange geometrical hinges,You may open them both ways; any way, for Heaven sake,So I were out of your whispering. Tell my brothersThat I perceive death, now I am well awake,Best gift is they can give or I can take....—Pull, and pull strongly, for your able strengthMust pull down Heaven upon me:—Yet stay; Heaven-gates are not so highly archedAs princes' palaces; they that enter thereMust go upon their knees.—Come, violent death,Serve for mandragora to make me sleep!—Go tell my brothers, when I am laid out,They then may feed in quiet.

(John Webster:The Duchess of Malfi, IV. ii. 1623.)

"Webster," says Mr. Symonds, "used his metre as the most delicate and responsive instrument for all varieties of dramatic expression.... Scansion in the verse of Webster is subordinate to the purpose of the speaker." (Blank Verse, pp. 45-47.) He also calls attention to such remarkable lines as—

"Cover her face; mine eyes dazzle; she died young.""Other sins only speak; murder shrieks out."

Are you not frightened with the imprecationsAnd curses of whole families, made wretchedBy your sinister practices?——Yes, as rocks are,When foamy billows split themselves againstTheir flinty ribs; or as the moon is moved,When wolves, with hunger pined, howl at her brightness.I am of a solid temper, and, like these,Steer on, a constant course: with mine own sword,If called into the field, I can make that rightWhich fearful enemies murmured at as wrong.Now, for these other piddling complaintsBreathed out in bitterness; as when they call meExtortioner, tyrant, cormorant, or intruderOn my poor neighbor's right, or grand incloserOf what was common, to my private use;Nay, when my ears are pierced with widows' cries,And undone orphans wash with tears my threshold,I only think what 'tis to have my daughterRight honorable; and 'tis a powerful charmMakes me insensible of remorse, or pity,Or the least sting of conscience.

(Philip Massinger:A New Way to Pay Old Debts, IV. i. 1633.)

Massinger's verse is more regular than that of Fletcher and others, in the matter of extra final syllables and the like, but free and flexible in the use of run-on lines and generally progressive movement.[31]It is an error to assume that there was no good blank verse written in this period when the drama in general is said to have been in a state of "decadence." The verse of Ford, for example, is noticeably strong and restrained (compare the remark of Mr. Symonds, on its "glittering regularity"). On the other hand, one may see the dramas of Richard Brome for specimens of the decadent metre at its worst. Brome wrote comedies both in prose and verse, and there is little difference between the two forms in his hands. See also the crude and lax verse of some of the early plays of Dryden, illustrated on p.234below. It was verse of this kind which, as Mr. Gosse observes, justified the introduction of the heroic couplet in all its strictness.

All in a moment through the gloom were seenTen thousand banners rise into the airWith orient colors waving: with them roseA forest huge of spears: and thronging helmsAppear'd, and serried shields in thick arrayOf depth immeasurable: anon they moveIn perfect phalanx to the Dorian moodOf flutes and soft recorders; such as rais'dTo height of noblest temper heroes oldArming to battle, and in stead of rageDeliberate valor breath'd, firm and unmov'dWith dread of death to flight or foul retreat,Nor wanting power to mitigate and swageWith solemn touches, troubl'd thoughts, and chaseAnguish and doubt and fear and sorrow and painFrom mortal or immortal minds....... And now his heartDistends with pride, and hardening in his strengthGlories: for never since created manMet such embodied force, as nam'd with theseCould merit more than that small infantryWarr'd on by cranes: though all the giant broodOf Phlegra with th' heroic race were joinedThat fought at Thebes and Ilium, on each sideMixed with auxiliar gods; and what resoundsIn fable or romance of Uther's sonBegirt with British and Armoric knights;And all who since, baptiz'd or infidel,Jousted in Aspramont or Montalban,Damasco, or Morocco, or Trebizond,Or whom Biserta sent from Afric shoreWhen Charlemagne with all his peerage fellBy Fontarabbia.

(Milton:Paradise Lost, Book I. ll. 544-559; 571-587. 1667.)

With head a while inclined,And eyes fast fixed, he stood, as one who prayed,Or some great matter in his mind revolved:At last, with head erect, thus cried aloud:—"Hitherto, Lords, what your commands imposedI have performed, as reason was, obeying,Not without wonder or delight beheld;Now, of my own accord, such other trialI mean to show you of my strength, yet greater,As with amaze shall strike all who behold."This uttered, straining all his nerves he bowed;As with the force of winds and waters pentWhen mountains tremble, those two massy pillars,With horrible convulsion to and froHe tugged, he shook, till down they came, and drewThe whole roof after them with burst of thunderUpon the heads of all who sat beneath.

(Milton:Samson Agonistes, ll. 1636-1652. 1671.)

The blank verse of Milton is characterized by greater freedom and flexibility than that of any earlier poet. The single line practically ceases to be the unit of the verse, which is divided rather into metrical paragraphs, or, as some would even call them, stanzas. Professor Corson quotes an interesting passage from a letter of Coleridge, giving an account of a conversation in which Wordsworth expressed his view of this sort of blank verse. "My friend gave his definition and notion of harmonious verse, that it consisted (the English iambic blank verse above all) in the apt arrangement of pauses and cadences, and the sweep of whole paragraphs,

with many a winding boutOf linked sweetness long drawn out,

and not in the even flow, much less in the prominence or antithetic vigor of single lines, which were indeed injurious to the total effect, except where they were introduced for some specific purpose." (Corson'sPrimer of English Verse, p. 218.) In like manner Mr. Symonds says: "The most sonorous passages begin and end with interrupted lines, including in one organic structure, periods, parentheses, and paragraphs of fluent melody.... In these structures there are many pauses which enable the ear and voice to rest themselves, but none are perfect, none satisfy the want created by the opening hemistich, until the final and deliberate close is reached." (Blank Versepp. 56, 57.)

In Milton's own prefatory note toParadise Lost, he called his blank verse "English heroic verse without rime." Rime he spoke of as "the invention of a barbarous age, ... graced indeed since by the use of some famous modern poets,"—not least among them, he might have said, being John Milton himself.He described also the special character of his verse in saying that "true musical delight ... consists only in apt numbers, fit quantity of syllables, and the sense variously drawn out from one verse into another,"—that is, byenjambement. "This neglect then of rime so little is to be taken for a defect, ... that it rather is to be esteemed an example set, the first in English, of ancient liberty recovered to heroic poem from the troublesome and modern bondage of riming."[32]

It appears from this note that Milton regarded his heroic blank verse as a different measure from the familiar dramatic blank verse. The latter he used inSamson Agonistes, the verse-structure of which will be seen to differ from that ofParadise Lost; the most salient distinction is the more frequent use of feminine endings. Mr. Symonds remarks interestingly on the "difference between Shaksperian and Miltonic, between dramatic and epical blank verse. The one is simple in construction and progressive, the other is complex and stationary.... The one exhibits a thought, in the process of formation, developing itself from the excited fancy of the speaker. The other presents to us an image crystallized and perfect in the poet's mind; the one is in time, the other in space—the one is a growing and the other a complete organism.... The one, if we may play upon a fancy, resembles Music, and the other Architecture." (Blank Verse, p. 58.)

Methinks I do not wantThat huge long train of fawning followers,That swept a furlong after me.'Tis true I am alone;So was the godhead, ere he made the world,And better served himself than served by nature.And yet I have a soulAbove this humble fate. I could command,Love to do good, give largely to true merit,All that a king should do; but though these are notMy province, I have scene enough withinTo exercise my virtue.All that a heart, so fixed as mine, can move,Is, that my niggard fortune starves my love.

(Dryden:Marriage à la Mode, III. i. 1672.)

She lay, and leaned her cheek upon her hand,And cast a look so languishingly sweet,As if, secure of all beholders' hearts,Neglecting, she could take them: boys, like Cupids,Stood fanning, with their painted wings, the windsThat played about her face: but if she smiled,A darting glory seemed to blaze abroad,That men's desiring eyes were never wearied,But hung upon the object. To soft flutesThe silver oars kept time; and while they played,The hearing gave new pleasure to the sight,And both to thought. 'Twas heaven, or somewhat more;

(Dryden:All for Love, III. i. 1678.)

The first of these specimens of Dryden's blank verse illustrates the loose form of it found in many of the comedies, ill distinguished from prose and used interchangeably with prose, as in the caseof the late Jacobean dramatists. It was withAll for Lovethat Dryden dropped the use of the rimed couplet in tragedy, and turned his hand toward the construction of really noble blank verse. This play was professedly an imitation of Shakspere, and the passage here quoted is a paraphrase of one inAntony and Cleopatra, II. ii. Shakspere's blank verse doubtless exerted a good influence on the quality of Dryden's. "From this time on," says Mr. Gosse, "Dryden's blank verse was more severe than any which had been used, except by Milton, since Ben Jonson." (Eighteenth Century Literature, p. 14.)

Then hear me, bounteous Heaven!Pour down your blessings on this beauteous head,Where everlasting sweets are always springing:With a continual-giving hand, let peace,Honor, and safety always hover round her;Feed her with plenty; let her eyes ne'er seeA sight of sorrow, nor her heart know mourning:Crown all her days with joy, her nights with restHarmless as her own thoughts, and prop her virtueTo bear the loss of one that too much loved;And comfort her with patience in our parting....—Then hear me too, just Heaven!Pour down your curses on this wretched head,With never-ceasing vengeance; let despair,Danger, or infamy, nay, all surround me.Starve me with wantings; let my eyes ne'er seeA sight of comfort, nor my heart know peace;But dash my days with sorrow, nights with horrorsWild as my own thoughts now, and let loose furyTo make me mad enough for what I lose,If I must lose him—if I must! I will not.

(Thomas Otway:Venice Preserved, V. ii. 1682.)

This play was one of those marking the return of the serious drama to blank verse, after the brief domination of the couplet on the stage. While Otway's verse is not as good as Dryden's best, it is of fairly even merit, and shows that something had been learned from the practice of the couplet.

Eternity! thou pleasing, dreadful thought!Through what variety of untried being,Through what new scenes and changes must we pass!The wide, the unbounded prospect lies before me;But shadows, clouds, and darkness rest upon it.Here will I hold. If there's a power above us(And that there is all nature cries aloudThrough all her works), he must delight in virtue;And that which he delights in must be happy....... The soul, secured in her existence, smilesAt the drawn dagger, and defies its point.The stars shall fade away, the sun himselfGrow dim with age, and nature sink in years,But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth,Unhurt amidst the wars of elements,The wrecks of matter, and the crush of worlds.

(Addison:Cato, V. i. ll. 10-18; 25-31. 1713.)

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