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Entreats could move her pity undertake
Tri. Do it with speedy diligence.
Shall more confirm my truth.
My noble lord, pronounce
My happy sentence; 'twill be welcome to me
Tri. Are you come? approach;
And wise in your election.
Dor. "Tis but vain: a saint may sooner be o'ercome to sell
His native piety. Come, thou grim man;
Thou art to me more lovely than the face of perfect
Beauty. Do thy office; it will free me
From these perplexities.
Sab. Well, my lord,
Since I'm unworthy to enjoy in life
Without your presence: since you will not have
Before you to the other world,
Sab. Let no hand presume to seize me;
Endeavour to prevent my will,
Shall urge my speedier ruin. Good, my lord,
Dor. I'm confounded
In my imagination. I must yield.
You have enforc'd a benefit upon me, I
Enter Chrisea and Eurione.
Chri. Sir, we come to gratulate your beauteous bride,
And wish your joys immortal.
Sab. I hope, madam, my innocence has giv'n you no offence,
That you refuse me, being a stranger to you,
To new-made brides, and only do confer them
Chri. Your happiness already Is so superlative, I cannot think
A new addition to it ;^ You enjoy
The very sum of fortune in your match
To such a noble and illustrious husband ;
I can no longer hold my passion in.
These walls of flesh are not of
Strength sufficient to contain
My big swoln heart. My lords, behold a creature
So infinitely wretched, I deserve not
Eur. Is this possible?
Was all her passion to Vitelli feign'd?
Tri. Why, Chrisea,
Whence springs this passionate fury?
When you shall hear it, you will sigh for me,
Had been advanc'd to heaven as the fix'd stars
Vit. This taxation
Cannot be just from you, who did enforce
Dor. Is there in heaven no friendly
Bolt left, that will strike this frame into
So overgrown with misery, from life,
That death would be a comfort above health,
Or any worldly blessing. May time blot my name out
Of his book, that such a prodigy
May not affright succession, nor strike,
Like an o'erspreading leprosy, upon
Chri. Oh, my lord, each grief of which
Preservation of your fame, have needed
Tri. This is such a cunning labyrinth of Sorrow, that no clew can lead them out of. Dor. It would be
A great affront to misery, should there live
I'm like some aged mountain, that has stood,
In the sea's watery bosom, thousand shocks
Of threat'ning tempests; yet, by the flattering waves,
Chri. My lord,
Human condition always censures things
From dross of other baser metals; and besides
To sound Vitelli's depth, upon whose love
Your good intents encounter'd bad success;
With a too quick prevention, has o'erthrown
I relied so much upon his nobleness; I thought
Could not have mov'd his temper; and besides,
We have only to add in conclusion, that the remaining four plays, written by Glapthorne, were never printed; and that he was also the author of a book of
ART. X.--The Hurricane: a Theosophical and Western Eclogue. To which is subjoined, a Solitary Effusion in a Summer's Evening. By William Gilbert.
"Odi profanum vulgus et arceo.
HOR. Lib. iii. Od. i.
This is a little poem, interesting on its own account, as well as from the circumstances under which it was composed. It bears evident marks of having been written under the influence of partial insanity, while, at the same time, it contains passages of a high order of beauty. Of its author, William Gilbert, the little we have collected is chiefly from the information obligingly furnished to us by a distinguished literary character, an early friend of the author's, and by whose occasional notice of the work before us, concurring with a similar testimony from another quarter, our attention was directed to The Hurricane. He was born in the West Indies, and bred to the colonial bar. At some time between 1780 and 1790 he came over to this country, on a case of a court-martial, and, if we mistake not, passed the remainder of his days here; at first, in a state of distress, owing to the detention of some litigated property, which was, however, afterwards adjudged to him. Little is known of his private life, except that he was one of the large class of literary men who partook in the hopes excited by the breaking out of the French Revolution; an event in which he took a peculiar interest, from its imagined correspondence with some mystical notions of his own, relative to providential retribution, and the causes of the rise and fall of nations. He was likewise addicted to astrology. Besides The Hurricane, he published a pamphlet on the legal question abovementioned, and two works, entitled The Law of Fire, and The Standard of God displayed; these latter, from their titles, (which is all we know of them,) were, doubtless, expositions of the author's peculiar theological tenets.* He likewise wrote a poem in praise
* We remember seeing an extract from The Hurricane, in that rarissimum opus, Mr. Coleridge's Watchman, where it appeared previous to publication.