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This longing after immortality? Or whence this secret dread, and inward horror Of falling into nought ?-Why shrinks the soul Back on herself, and startles at destruction? Awe. 'Tis the Divinity that stirs within us ;
"Tis Heav'n itself that points out an Hereafter, And intimates eternity to man. *Satisfaét. (1) Eternity !thou pleasing*
Curiofity. Through what variety of untry'd being, Through what new scenes and changes must we
The wide, th' unbounded prospect lies before me; Anxiety. But shadows, clouds, and darkness, rest upon it. *Courage. Here will I hold. +If there's a Power above us; And that there is, all nature cries aloud
Through all her works-He must delight in virtue.
Satisfact. And that, which He delights in, must be happy. Anxiety. But when !—or where!—This world was made for Cæsar.
*Courage. I'm weary of conjectures.-*This must end them, Laying his hand on his sword.] Firmness. Thus am I doubly arm'd. (2) My death, my
My bane and antidote: are both before me; Apprehen. This in a moment, brings me to an end. Whilst this informs me, I shall never die. The soul (3) secur'd in her existence, smiles At the drawn dagger, and defies its point. Triumph. The stars (4) shall fade away, the Sun himself Grow dim with age, and nature sink in years; But thou(5) shalt flourish in immortal youth,
(1) "Eternity!-thou pleasing,,” &c. requires an eye fixed with profound thoughtfulness, on one point, throughout this line.
(2)- My death, my life, &c. Long paufes between, and pointing, or looking at the fword, in pronouncing "my death," and at the book, in pronouncing "my life," and so in " my bane, and antidote," and in the two following lines. (3) “The foul, &c. may be pronounced with the right hand laid upon the breast.
(4)" The flars," &c. may be spoken with the eyes raised toward Heaven, and the arms moderately spread.
(5)" thou fhalt flourish," &c. The right hand upon the breast.
(1) Unhurt amidst the war of elements,
The wreck of nature, and the crush (2) of worlds.
Satan's speech to Death, stopping his passage
WHENCE, and what art thou, execrable Quest with
That dar'st, though grim and terrible, advance Anger-
To yonder gates? Through them I mean to pass, Refolution.
Retire, (3) or taste thy folly, and learn by proof,
To whom the goblin, full of wrath, reply'd, "Art thou that traitor Angel, art thou He, Who first broke peace in Heav'n, and faith till
Unbroken, and in proud rebellious arms
Drew after him the third part of Heaven's sons,
And they, outcast from God, are here condemn'd
Thy ling'ring, or with one stroke of this dart
(1) "Unhurt," &c. The arms fpread again as before.
(2 "The crush," &c. The hands brought together with force. (3) "Retire," is to be spoken as a whole fentence, and with the greatest force of threatening. See Anger, page 29.
(4)" and to thy speed," to be spoken quick. M
The speech of Sin to Satan, to prevent an hostile encounter between the latter and Death; with the effect of her speech.
(Milt. PARA. LOST. B. II. v. 726.)
Exclam. "(1) Father, what intends thy hand,” (she
Reproof. Against thy only son? What fury, O son, Possesses thee to bend that mortal dart
Against thy father's head? And know'st for whom ;
Vexation. For Him who sits above, and laughs the while At thee ordain'd his drudge, to execute
Whate'er his wrath, which he calls justice, bids;
Recollect. Prevented, spares to tell thee yet by deeds
What it intends; till first I know of thee, Queflion. What thing thou art, thus double form'd, and why In this infernal vale first met, thou call'st Me father, and that phantasm call'st my son, I know thee not; nor ever saw, till now,
Averfion. Sight more detestable than him and thee."
Part of Mr. Pope's complaint of the impertinence of fcribblers.
FRIEND (2) to my life! (which did not you
(3) The world had wanted-many an idle song)
(1) "O Father, "&c. must be spoken quick, as people do, when they mean to prevent imminent mifchief.
(2) Dr. Arbuthnot.
(3)"The world had wanted."-Thus far ought to be spoken with great emphafi, as if fomewhat very important were co
What drop, or nostrum, can this plague remove?
If foes, they write, if friends, they read me dead.
(1) With serious anguish, and an aching head;
Keep your piece nine Advising.
"Nine years!" cries he, who high in Drury- off. with
Lull'd by soft zephyrs through the broken pane,
I'm all submission; what you'd have it, make it.
I want a patron-ask him for a place."
Pitholeon libell'd me-" *But here's a letter * Cringing. Informs you, Sir, 'twas when he knew no
Dare you refuse him? (4)Curl invites to dine;
ing; and the remaining part of the line, " many an idle fong,"
(1) With ferious anguish," &c. may be spoken as if fick. See Sick efs, page 32.
(2) Alluding to Horace's "Nonumque prematur in annum. (3) Pitholeon. The name of a foolish ancient poet.
(4) "Curl invites," &c. Mr. Pope was, it feems, ill used by Curl, a bookfeller-by the writer of a Journal News-paper-and by a "Parfon much bemus'd in beer."
If I dislike it," Furies, death, and rage!
Fir'd that the house reject him," Sdeath! I'll
And shame the fools-Your int'rest, Sir, with
"Lintot (dull rogue !) will think your price tog
"Not if you, Sir, revise it and retouch." Vexation. All my demurs but double his attacks; Wheedling At last he whispers," Do; and we go snacks.” Glad of a quarrel, straight I clap the door ; Sir, let me see you, and your works no more.”
ON LOST HAPPINESS.
Satan's Soliloquy. (Milt. PARAD. LOST B. IV. v. 32)
O Thou, that with surpassing glory crown'd, Look'st from thy sole dominion, like the god Of this new world; at whose sight all the stars Hide their diminish'd heads; to thee I call, But with no friendly voice, and add thy name, O Sun, to tell thee, how I hate thy beams, That bring to my remembrance from what state I fell; how glorious once above thy sphere; Self Con- Till pride and worse ambition threw me down; Warring in heaven'gainst heaven's matchless king. Ah wherefore! He deserv'd no such return Vindication From me, whom he created what I was of an ene- In that right eminence, and with his good Upbraided none, nor was his service hard. What could be less than to afford him praise, The easiest recompense, and pay him thanks, How justly due ! yet all his good in me Produc'd rank malice; lifted up so high,