fimple expofition, destitute as it is of any grace, to the perplexed and tedious declamation of the modern ftage.

Que dés les premiers vers l'action préparée,

Sans peine, du fujet applaniffe l'entrée,

Je me ris d'un acteur, qui lent à s'exprimer,
De ce qu'il veut, d'abord ne fait pas m'informer;
Et qui, debrouillant mal une pénible intrigue,
D'un divertiffement me fait une fatigue.
J'aimerois mieux encor qu'il déclinât fon nom,
Et dît, Je fuis Orefte, ou bien Agamemnon:
Que d'aller par un tas de confufes merveilles,
Sans rien dire à l'efprit, etourdir les oreilles.

That the fimplicity of Euripides is preferable to the perplexity or bombaft of Corneille's manner in developing the story of feveral of his tragedies, no perfon of just taste I believe will difpute. The first scene of the Cinna has been ridiculed by Boileau. That of Sertorius is not very happy. His famous play of Rodogune is opened by two unknown perfons, one of whom begins, Enfin ce jour pompeux, cet heureux jour, nous luit;

and

and, after un tas de confufes merveilles in the most wretched verse, extended to the length of seventy lines, when the reader very impatiently expects to be informed of the whole of the narration, stops short with these words,

Je vous acheverai le refte une autre fois.

Two brothers united by the most tender friendship, living in the fame palace, having been long in love with the fame princess, have never yet intimated their paffion to each other, not from motives of jealousy or distrust, but that their confidents may tell it the spectator, and make him fome amends. for the abrupt conclufion of the former converfation. However, ftill the poor spectator is much in the dark, till the queen, who is a perfect Machiavel, relates, merely from the love of talking, all the murders she has committed, and those she still intends to commit, to her waiting - woman, for whofe parts fhe expreffes at the fame time. a fovereign contempt.

Here

Here I cannot help taking notice, that as the poet's want of art made it necessary to set the queen to prate of her former crimes, to let us into the fable; his ignorance of human nature betrayed him in a fucceeding scene, into the enormous abfurdity of making both Rodogune and the queen without hesitation, the one advise the lover to murder his mistress, the other the fon to murder his mother. Here again an instance offers itself of our Shakefpear's fuperior knowledge of the heart of man. King John wishes to inftigate Hubert to kill Prince Arthur, but obferve with what difficulty he expresses his horrid purpose.

King JOHN.

Come hither, Hubert. O my gentle Hubert,
We owe thee much; within this wall of flesh
There is a foul counts thee her creditor,
And with advantage means to pay thy love;
And, my good friend, thy voluntary oath
Lives in this bofom, dearly cherished.
Give me thy hand, I had a thing to fay→→
But I will fit it with fome better time.

By

By heaven, Hubert, I'm almost asham'd
To say what good refpect I have of thee.
HUBERT.

I am much bounden to your majefty.

King JOHN.

Good friend, thou haft no cause to say so yet,But thou fhalt have-and creep time ne'er fo flow, Yet it fhall come for me to do thee good.

I had a thing to say-but, let it go:

( The fun is in the heav'n, and the proud day,
Attended with the pleasures of the world,
Is all too wanton, and too full of gaudes,
To give me audience.
me audience. If the midnight bell
Did with his iron tongue and brazen mouth
Sound one unto the drowsy race of night;
If this fame were a church-yard where we ftand,
And thou poffeffed with a thousand wrongs;
Or if that furly fpirit melancholy

Had bak'd thy blood, and made it heavy thick,
Which elfe runs trickling up and down the veins,

Making that idiot laughter keep men's eyes,

And strain their cheeks to idle merriment;

(A paffion hateful to my purposes)

Or if thou could eft fee me without eyes,

Hear me without thine ears, and make reply

Without

Without a tongue, ufing conceit alone,

Without eyes, ears, and harmful found of words;
Then, in despight of broad-ey'd watchful day,
I would into thy bofom pour my thoughts:
But ah, I will not-yet I love thee well;
And, by my troth, I think thou lov'ft me well.