The Works of Henry Fielding, vol. 12. Fielding Harold

The Works of Henry Fielding, vol. 12 - Fielding Harold


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1: The trumpet in a tragedy is generally as much as to say, Enter king, which makes Mr Banks, in one of his plays, call it the trumpet's formal sound.]

       Dood. He comes most luckily for my petition.

      [Flourish.

      SCENE II. – KING, QUEEN, GRIZZLE, NOODLE, DOODLE, FOODLE

       King. [1] Let nothing but a face of joy appear; The man who frowns this day shall lose his head, That he may have no face to frown withal. Smile Dollallolla – Ha! what wrinkled sorrow [2] Hangs, sits, lies, frowns upon thy knitted brow? Whence flow those tears fast down thy blubber'd cheeks, Like a swoln gutter, gushing through the streets?

      [Footnote 1: Phraortes, in the Captives, seems to have been acquainted with King Arthur:

      Proclaim a festival for seven days' space,

      Let the court shine in all its pomp and lustre,

      Let all our streets resound with shouts of joy;

      Let musick's care-dispelling voice be heard;

      The sumptuous banquet and the flowing goblet

      Shall warm the cheek and fill the heart with gladness.

      Astarbe shall sit mistress of the feast.

      ]

      [Footnote 2:

      Repentance frowns on thy contracted brow. —Sophonisba.

      Hung on his clouded brow, I mark'd despair. —Ibid.

      – A sullen gloom

      Scowls on his brow. —Busiris.

      ]

       Queen. [1]Excess of joy, my lord, I've heard folks say, Gives tears as certain as excess of grief.

      [Footnote 1: Plato is of this opinion, and so is Mr Banks:

      Behold these tears sprung from fresh pain and joy.

      – Earl of Essex.

      ]

       King. If it be so, let all men cry for joy, [1]Till my whole court be drowned with their tears; Nay, till they overflow my utmost land, And leave me nothing but the sea to rule.

      [Footnote 1: These floods are very frequent in the tragick authors:

      Near to some murmuring brook I'll lay me down,

      Whose waters, if they should too shallow flow,

      My tears shall swell them up till I will drown.

      – Lee's Sophonisba.

      Pouring forth tears at such a lavish rate,

      That were the world on fire they might have drown'd

      The wrath of heaven, and quench'd the mighty ruin.

      – Mithridates.

      One author changes the waters of grief to those of joy:

      – These tears, that sprung from tides of grief,

      Are now augmented to a flood of joy. —Cyrus the Great.

      Another:

      Turns all the streams of heat, and makes them flow

      In pity's channel. —Royal Villain.

      One drowns himself:

      – Pity like a torrent pours me down,

      Now I am drowning all within a deluge. —Anna Sullen.

      Cyrus drowns the whole world:

      Our swelling grief

      Shall melt into a deluge, and the world

      Shall drown in tears. —Cyrus the Great.

      ]

       Dood. My liege, I a petition have here got.

       King. Petition me no petitions, sir, to-day:

      Let other hours be set apart for business.

      To-day it is our pleasure to be [1]drunk.

      And this our queen shall be as drunk as we.

      [Footnote 1: An expression vastly beneath the dignity of tragedy, says

      Mr D – s, yet we find the word he cavils at in the mouth of

      Mithridates less properly used, and applied to a more terrible idea:

      I would be drunk with death. —Mithridates.

      The author of the New Sophonisba taketh hold of this monosyllable, and uses it pretty much to the same purpose:

      The Carthaginian sword with Roman blood

      Was drunk.

      I would ask Mr D – s which gives him the best idea, a drunken king, or a drunken sword?

      Mr Tate dresses up King Arthur's resolution in heroick:

      Merry, my lord, o' th' captain's humour right,

      I am resolved to be dead drunk to-night.

      Lee also uses this charming word:

      Love's the drunkenness of the mind. —Gloriana. ]

       Queen. (Though I already[1] half seas over am)

      If the capacious goblet overflow

      With arrack punch – 'fore George! I'll see it out:

      Of rum and brandy I'll not taste a drop.

      [Footnote 1: Dryden hath borrowed this, and applied it improperly:

      I'm half seas o'er in death. —Cleomenes ]

       King. Though rack, in punch, eight shillings be a quart, And rum and brandy be no more than six, Rather than quarrel you shall have your will. [Trumpets. But, ha! the warrior comes – the great Tom Thumb, The little hero, giant-killing boy, Preserver of my kingdom, is arrived.

      SCENE III. – TOM THUMB to them, with Officers, Prisoners, and Attendants

      King. [1] Oh! welcome most, most welcome to my arms.

      What gratitude can thank away the debt

      Your valour lays upon me?

      [Footnote 1: This figure is in great use among the tragedians:

      'Tis therefore, therefore 'tis. —Victim.

      I long, repent, repent, and long again. —Busiris. ]

       Queen. – [1] Oh! ye gods! [Aside.

      [Footnote 1: A tragical exclamation.]

       Thumb. When I'm not thank'd at all, I'm thank'd enough. [1] I've done my duty, and I've done no more,

      [Footnote 1: This line is copied verbatim in the Captives.]

       Queen. Was ever such a godlike creature seen? [Aside.

       King. Thy modesty's a [1]candle to thy merit, It shines itself, and shews thy merit too. But say, my boy, where didst thou leave the giants?

      [Footnote 1: We find a candlestick for this candle in two celebrated authors:

      – Each star withdraws

      His golden head, and burns within the socket. —Nero.

      A soul grown old and sunk into the socket. —Sebastian.

      ]

       Thumb. My liege, without the castle gates they stand, The castle gates too low for their admittance.

       King. What look they like?

      


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