What need I be so forward with Death, that calls not on me? Well, ’tis no matter, Honour pricks me on. But how if Honour prick me off, when I come on? how then? Can Honour set a leg? No: or an arm? No: or take away the grief of a wound? No: Honour hath no skill in surgery then? No. What is Honour? A word.--What is that word _honour_? Air; a trim reckoning.---- Who hath it? He that dy’d a Wednesday. Doth he feel it? No. Doth he hear it? No. Is it insensible then? Yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the living? No: Why? Detraction will not suffer it. Therefore, I’ll none of it; honour is a mere scutcheon, and so ends my catechism. _First part Henry IV. act 5. sc. 2._ And even without dialogue, a continued discourse may be justified, where the soliloquy is upon an important subject that makes a strong impression, but without much agitation. For if it be at all excusable to think aloud, it is necessary that the language with the reasoning be carried on in a chain without a broken link. In this view that admirable soliloquy in _Hamlet_ upon life and immortality, being a serene meditation upon the most interesting of all subjects, ought to escape censure. And the same consideration will justify the soliloquy that introduces the 5th act of Addison’s _Cato_. * * * * * The next class of the grosser errors which all writers ought to avoid, shall be of language elevated above the tone of the sentiment; of which take the following instances. _Zara._ Swift as occasion, I Myself will fly; and earlier than the morn Wake thee to freedom. Now ’tis late; and yet Some news few minutes past arriv’d, which seem’d To shake the temper of the King---- Who knows What racking cares disease a monarch’s bed? Or love, that late at night still lights his lamp, And strikes his rays through dusk, and folded lids, Forbidding rest, may stretch his eyes awake, And force their balls abroad at this dead hour. I’ll try. _Mourning Bride, act 3. sc. 4._ The language here is undoubtedly too pompous and laboured for describing so simple a circumstance as absence of sleep. In the following passage, the tone of the language, warm and plaintive, is well suited to the passion, which is recent grief. But every one will be sensible, that in the last couplet save one, the tone is changed, and the mind suddenly elevated to be let fall as suddenly in the last couplet. Il déteste à jamais sa coupable victoire, Il renonce à la cour, aux humains, à la gloire; Et se fuïant lui-même, au milieu des deserts, Il va cacher sa peine au bout de l’univers; La, soit que le soleil rendît le jour au monde, Soit qu’il finît sa course au vaste sein de l’onde, Sa voix faisoit redire aux echos attendris, Le nom, le triste nom, de son malheureux fils. _Henriade, chant. viii. 229._