"'Tis well! these Solemn Sounds, this Pomp of Horror, / Are fit to feed the Frenzy in my Soul, / Here's room for Meditation, ev'n to Madness, / 'Till the Mind burst with Thinking."
— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)
Author
Work Title
Place of Publication
London
Publisher
Printed for Jacob Tonson
Date
1703
Metaphor
"'Tis well! these Solemn Sounds, this Pomp of Horror, / Are fit to feed the Frenzy in my Soul, / Here's room for Meditation, ev'n to Madness, / 'Till the Mind burst with Thinking."
Metaphor in Context
CALISTA.
'Tis well! these Solemn Sounds, this Pomp of Horror,
Are fit to feed the Frenzy in my Soul,
Here's room for Meditation, ev'n to Madness,
'Till the Mind burst with Thinking; this dull Flame
Sleeps in the Socket; sure the Book was left
To tell me something;--for Instruction then--
He teaches holy Sorrow, and Contrition,
And Penitence;--Is it become an Art then?
A Trick that lazy, dull, luxurious Gown-men
Can teach us to do over; I'll no more on't;
[Throwing away the Book.]
I have more real Anguish in my Heart,
Than all their Pedant Discipline e'er knew.
What Charnel has been rifl'd for these Bones?
Fye! this is Pageantry;--they look uncouthly,
But what of that? If he or she that own'd 'em,
Safe from Disquiet, sit, and smile to see
The Farce, their miserable Relicks play.
But here's a Sight is terrible indeed;
Is this that Haughty, Gallant, Gay Lothario,
That dear perfidous--Ah!--how Pale he looks!
How Grim with clotted Blood, and those dead Eyes!
Ascend ye Ghosts, fantastick Forms of Night,
In all your diff'rent, dreadful Shapes ascend,
And match the present Horror if you can.
(V.i, p. 53)
'Tis well! these Solemn Sounds, this Pomp of Horror,
Are fit to feed the Frenzy in my Soul,
Here's room for Meditation, ev'n to Madness,
'Till the Mind burst with Thinking; this dull Flame
Sleeps in the Socket; sure the Book was left
To tell me something;--for Instruction then--
He teaches holy Sorrow, and Contrition,
And Penitence;--Is it become an Art then?
A Trick that lazy, dull, luxurious Gown-men
Can teach us to do over; I'll no more on't;
[Throwing away the Book.]
I have more real Anguish in my Heart,
Than all their Pedant Discipline e'er knew.
What Charnel has been rifl'd for these Bones?
Fye! this is Pageantry;--they look uncouthly,
But what of that? If he or she that own'd 'em,
Safe from Disquiet, sit, and smile to see
The Farce, their miserable Relicks play.
But here's a Sight is terrible indeed;
Is this that Haughty, Gallant, Gay Lothario,
That dear perfidous--Ah!--how Pale he looks!
How Grim with clotted Blood, and those dead Eyes!
Ascend ye Ghosts, fantastick Forms of Night,
In all your diff'rent, dreadful Shapes ascend,
And match the present Horror if you can.
(V.i, p. 53)
Categories
Provenance
C-H Lion
Citation
Over seventy entries in the ESTC (1703, 1714, 1718, 1721, 1723, 1726, 1727, 1728, 1730, 1732, 1733, 1735, 1736, 1736, 1737, 1739, 1742, 1746, 1747, 1750, 1753, 1754, 1755, 1757, 1758, 1759, 1760, 1761, 1763, 1764, 1766, 1768, 1770, 1771, 1774, 1775, 1776, 1777, 1782, 1783, 1784, 1785, 1786, 1787, 1790, 1791, 1792, 1795, 1797, 1800).
See The Fair Penitent. A Tragedy. As it is Acted at the New Theatre In Little Lincolns-Inn-Fields. By Her Majesty's Servants. Written by N. Rowe (London: Printed for Jacob Tonson, 1703). <Link to ECCO>lt;Link to ECCO-TCP>
Reading Jean Marsden's edition in The Broadview Anthology of Restoration & Early Eighteenth-Century Drama (Peterborough, Broadview, 2001).
See The Fair Penitent. A Tragedy. As it is Acted at the New Theatre In Little Lincolns-Inn-Fields. By Her Majesty's Servants. Written by N. Rowe (London: Printed for Jacob Tonson, 1703). <Link to ECCO>lt;Link to ECCO-TCP>
Reading Jean Marsden's edition in The Broadview Anthology of Restoration & Early Eighteenth-Century Drama (Peterborough, Broadview, 2001).
Date of Entry
07/18/2013
