[15:2]Honoured Hippolita, Most dreaded Amazonian, that hast slain The scythe-tusked boar; that, with thy arm as strong As it is white, wast near to make the male To thy sex captive, but that this thy lord (_Born to uphold creation in that hon|our First Nature styled it in_) shrunk thee in|to The bound thou wast o'erflow|ing, | at once subdu|ing | Thy force and thy affection;--Soldieress! That equally canst poise sternness with pit|y;-- Who now, I know, hast much more power o'er | him Than e'er he had on thee;--_who owest[15:3] his strength And his love too, who is a servant to The tenor of thy speech_! Is this like Fletcher? I think not. It is unlike him in versification and in the tone of thought; and you will here particularly notice that it is unlike him in abruptness and brevity. It is like Shakspeare in all these particulars. [Sidenote: Shakspere hardly ever vague,] I have said that Shakspeare, often obscure, is scarcely ever vague; that he may fail to express all he wishes, but almost always gives distinctly the part which he is able to convey. [Sidenote: Fletcher unable to grasp images distinctly.] Fletcher is not only slow in his ideas, but often vague and deficient in precision. The following lines are taken from a scene in the play under our notice, which clearly is not Shakspeare's. I would direct your attention, not to the remoteness of the last conceit, but to the want of distinctness in grasping images, and the inability to see fully either their picturesque or their poetical relations. [Sidenote: Fletcher, not Shakspere.] _Arcite._ We were not bred to talk, man: when we are armed, And both upon our guards, then _let our fur|y, Like meeting of two tides, fly strongly from | us_. . . . . . _Palamon._ Methinks this armour's very like that, Ar|cite, Thou worest that day the three kings fell, but light|er. _Arc._ That was a very good one; and that day, I well remember, you out-did me, cous|in: ... When I saw you charge first, _Methought I heard a dreadful clap of thund|er Break from the troop_. _Pal._ _But still before that flew The lightning of your valour._--Act III. scene vi. [Sidenote: Shakspere metaphorical, but seldom has long description.]