History of English Literature Volume 2 (of 3)Taine, Hippolyte
History
History of English Literature Volume 2 (of 3)
Taine, Hippolyte
English literature -- History and criticism
exaggerates, he strains after wit, he is always an author. Not venturing
to address Sacharissa herself, he addresses Mrs. Braughton, her
attendant, "his fellow-servant":
"So, in those nations which the Sun adore,
Some modest Persian, or some weak-eyed Moor,
No higher dares advance his dazzled sight
Than to some gilded cloud, which near the light
Of their ascending god adorns the east,
And, graced with his beam, outshines the rest."[303]
A fine comparison! That is a well-made courtesy; I hope Sacharissa
responds with one equally correct. His despairs bear the same flavor; he
pierces the groves of Penshurst with his cries, "reports his flame to
the beeches," and the well-bred beeches "bow their heads, as' if they
felt the same."[304] It is probable that, in these mournful walks, his
greatest care was lest he should wet the soles of his high-heeled shoes.
These transports of love bring in the classical machinery, Apollo and
the Muses. Apollo is annoyed that one of his servants is ill-treated,
and bids him depart; and he departs, telling Sacharissa that she is
harder than an oak, and that she was certainly produced from a
rock.[305]
There is one genuine reality in all this--sensuality; not ardent, but
light and gay. There is a certain piece, "The Fall," which an abbé of
the court of Louis XV might have written:
"Then blush not, Fair! or on him frown,...
How could the youth, alas! but bend
When his whole Heav'n upon him lean'd?
If aught by him amiss were done,
'Twas that he let you rise so soon."[306]
Other pieces smack of their surroundings, and are not so polished:
"Amoret! as sweet as good,
As the most delicious food,
Which but tasted does impart
Life and gladness to the heart."[307]
I should not be pleased, were I a woman, to be compared to a beef-steak,
though that be appetizing; nor should I like any more to find myself,
like Sacharissa, placed on a level with good wine, which flies to the
head:
"Sacharissa's beauty's wine,
Which to madness doth incline;
Such a liquor as no brain
That is mortal can sustain."[308]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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