Historical Manual of English Prosody. Saintsbury George. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

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Can creep | through that | his lan|ces can|not pierce:

       Thou, and | thy sis|ter, soft | and sa|cred Air,

       Goddess | of life, | and gov|erness | of health,

       Keep ev|ery fount|ain fresh | and ar|bour sweet;

       No bra|zen gate | her pas|sage can | repulse, Nor bush|y thick|et bar | thy sub|tle breath: Then deck | thee with | thy loose | delight | some robes, And on | thy wings | bring del|icate | perfumes, To play | the wan|ton with | us through | the leaves.

      (David and Bethsabe.)

      Marlowe.

      If all | the pens | that ev|er po|ets held

       Had fed | the feel|ing of | their mas|ters' thoughts,

       And ev|ery sweet|ness that | inspir'd | their hearts,

       Their minds, | and mu|ses, on | admir|èd themes;

       If all | the heav|enly quint|essence | they 'still

       From their | immort|al flowers | of po|esy,

       Wherein | as in | a mir|ror we | perceive

       The high|est reach|es of | a hu|man wit;

       If these | had made | one po|em's per|iod,

       And all | combined | in beau|ty's worth|iness,

       Yet should | there hov|er in | their rest|less heads

       One thought, | one grace, | one won|der at | the least,

       Which in|to words | no vir|tue can | digest.

      (Tamburlaine.)

      (These passages, despite their extreme poetical beauty, are still prosodically immature. Even when, as in the last, there are lines with no technical "stop" at the end, as at "held" and "heads," the grammatical incompleteness does not interfere with the rounding off of the prosodic period or sub-period. Marlowe (v. inf.) could enjamb couplet beautifully, but not blank verse. Note also that the lines are strictly decasyllabic, the only hints at trisyllabic feet being in words like "Heaven," then regularly a monosyllable, "every," and "flowers.")

      (e) Shakespeare.

      (1) Early single-moulded:

      Upon | his blood|y fin|ger he | doth wear

       A pre|cious ring, | that light|ens all | the hole,

       Which, like | the ta|per in | some mon|ument,

       Doth shine | upon | the dead | man's earth|y cheeks,

       And shows | the rag|ged en|trails of | the pit.

      (Titus Andronicus.)

      (Same remarks applying as to the last citation.)

      (2) Beginning of perfected stage:

      Why art | thou yet | so fair? | shall I | believe

       That un|substan|tial death | is am|orous,

       And that | the lean | abhor|rèd mon|ster keeps

       Thee here | in dark | to be | his par|amour?

       For fear | of that, | I still | will stay | with thee:

       And ne|ver from | this pal|ace of | dim night

       Depart | again: | here, here | will I | remain

       With worms | that are | thy cham|ber-maids; | O, here

       Will I | set up | my ev|erlast|ing rest.

       And shake | the yoke | of in|auspic|ious stars

       From this | world-wear|ied flesh.

      (Romeo and Juliet.)

      (No trisyllabic feet yet, and no redundance: but, by shift of pause and completer juncture of lines, the paragraph effect solidly founded.)

      (3) Further process in the same direction:

      Nay, || but this dotage of our general's

       O'erflows the measure: || those his goodly eyes,

       That o'er the files | and musters of the war

       Have glowed like plated Mars, || now bend, | now turn,

       The office and devotion of their view

       Upon a tawny front: || his captain's heart,

       Which | in the scuffles of great fights | hath burst

       The buckles on his breast, || rene[a]g[u]es all temper,

       And is become | the bellows and the fan

       To cool a gipsy's lust.

      (Antony and Cleopatra.)

      (Here the double division marks indicate stronger, and the single lighter, pauses—not, as usually in the latter case, feet. The variation of the pause for paragraph effect is here consummate; but the verse, as its conditions require, is of the severer type.)

      (4) Perfection in passion:

      Blow winds, | and crack | your cheeks! | rage! | blow!

       You cat|aracts | and hur|rica|noes, spout

       Till you | have drench'd | our stee|ples, drown'd | the cocks!

       You sul|phurous and | thought-ex|ecut|ing fires,

       Vaunt-cour|iers to | oak-cleav|ing thun|derbolts,

       Singe my | white head! | And thou, | all-shak|ing thunder,

       Smite flat | the thick | rotund|ity o' | the world! Crack na|ture's moulds, | all ger|mens spill | at once, That make | ingrate|ful man!

      (King Lear.)

      (Every extension taken. Monosyllabic feet either at the first "blow" and "winds," or the last, and "rage," perhaps at both (an Alexandrine). Trisyllabic at "-phŭrŏus ānd," "rĭĕrs tō," and "ĭty̆ ō̆'." Redundance at "-ing thun⋮der." Pause fully played upon as above: enjambment at "spout"; parenthetic enjambment at "fires.")

      (5) Perfection in quiet:

      Our rev|els now | are end|ed. These | our actors,

       As I | foretold | you, were | all spir|its, and

       Are melt|ed in|to air, | into | thin air:

       And, like | the base|less fab|ric of | this vision,

       The cloud-|capped towers, | the gor|geous pal|aces,

       The sol|emn tem|ples, the | great globe | itself,

       Yea, all | which it | inher|it, shall | dissolve

       And, like | this in|substan|tial pa|geant faded,

       Leave not | a rack | behind. | We are | such stuff

       As dreams | are made | of, and | our lit|tle life

       Is round|ed with | a sleep.

      (The Tempest.)

      (Not much trisyllabic—the dreaminess not requiring it. A good deal of redundance, and enjambment pushed nearly to the furthest by taking place at "and."[40])

      (f) Redundance encroaching.

      Beaumont and Fletcher:

      "Oh | thou conqu[e]ror,

       Thou glo|ry of | the world | once, now | the pity: Thou awe | of na|tions, where|fore didst | thou fail us? What poor | fate fol|lowed thee, | and plucked | thee on To trust | thy sa|cred life | to an | Egyptian? The life | and light | of Rome | to a | blind stranger, That hon|oura|ble war | ne'er taught | a no|bleness Nor wor|thy cir|cumstance | show'd what | a man was? That ne|ver heard | thy name | sung but | in banquets And loose | lasciv|ious pleas|ures? to | a boy That had | no faith | to com|prehend | thy greatness, No stud|y of | thy life | to know | thy goodness? … Egyp|tians, dare | you think | your high | pyra|mides Built to | out-dure | the sun, | as you | suppose, Where your | unworth|y kings | lie rak'd | in ashes, Are mon|uments fit | for him!