Hogarth's Works, with life and anecdotal descriptions of his pictures. Volume 1 (of 3)Ireland, John
General
Hogarth's Works, with life and anecdotal descriptions of his pictures. Volume 1 (of 3)
Ireland, John
Hogarth, William, 1697-1764
"With thundering noise the azure vault they tear,
And rend, with savage roar, the echoing air:
The sounds terrific he with horror hears;
His fiddle throws aside,--and stops his ears."--E.
[Illustration: THE ENRAGED MUSICIAN.]
The last plate displayed the distress of a poet; in this the
artist has exhibited the rage of a musician. Our poor bard bore
his misfortunes with patience, and, rich in his Muse, did not much
repine at his poverty. Not so this master of harmony--of heavenly
harmony! To the evils of poverty he is now a stranger; his _adagios_
and _cantabiles_ have procured him the protection of nobles; and,
contrary to the poor shirtless mendicant of the Muses that we left in
a garret, he is arrayed in a coat decorated with frogs, a bag-wig,
solitaire, and ruffled shirt. Waiting in the chamber of a man of
fashion, whom he instructs in the divine science of music, having
first tuned his instrument, he opens his crotchet-book, shoulders his
violin, flourishes his fiddlestick, and
"Softly sweet, in Lydian measure,
Soon he soothes his soul to pleasure."
Rapt in Elysium at the divine symphony, he is awakened from his
beatific vision by noises that distract him:
"An universal hubbub wild,
Of stunning sounds, and voices all confus'd,
Assails his ears with loudest vehemence."
Confounded with the din, and enraged by the interruption, our modern
Terpander starts from his seat, and opens the window. This operates
as air to a kindling fire; and such a combination of noises burst
upon the auricular nerve that he is compelled to stop his ears,--but
to stop the torrent is impossible!
"A louder yet, and yet a louder strain,
Break his bands of thought asunder!
And rouse him, like a rattling peal of thunder,
At the horrible sound
He has rais'd up his head,
As awak'd from the dead,
And amazed he stares all around."
In this situation he is delineated; and those who for a moment
contemplate the figures before him, cannot wonder at his rage:
"A crew of hell-hounds never ceasing bark,
With wide Cerberean mouth, full loud, and ring
A hideous peal."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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