De la tant de beautes difformes dans leurs oeuvres;
Le vers charmant
Est par la torsion subite des couleuvres
Pris brusquement;
A de certains moments toutes les jeunes flores
Dans la foret
Out peur, et sur le front des blanches metaphores
L'ombre apparait;
C'est qu'Horace ou Virgile out vu soudain le spectre
Noir se dresser;
C'est que la-bas, derriere Amaryllis, Electre
Vient de passer.
Nor was it the Electra of Sophocles, the calm and impassive accomplice
of an untroubled and unhesitating matricide, who showed herself ever in
passing to the intent and serious vision of Webster. By those candid
and sensible judges to whom the praise of Marlowe seems to imply a
reflection on the fame of Shakespeare, I may be accused--and by such
critics I am content to be accused--of a fatuous design to set Webster
beside Sophocles, or Sophocles--for aught I know--beneath Webster, if
I venture to indicate the superiority in truth of natural passion--and,
I must add, of moral instinct--which distinguishes the modern from
the ancient. It is not, it never will be, and it never can have been
natural for noble and civilized creatures to accept with spontaneous
complacency, to discharge with unforced equanimity, such offices or such
duties as weigh so lightly on the spirit of the Sophoclean Orestes that
the slaughter of a mother seems to be a less serious undertaking for his
unreluctant hand than the subsequent execution of her paramour.
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