 we e'er see,
     To glad our age, and like young eagles teach | them
     Boldly to gaze against bright arms, and say,
     "Remember what your fathers were, and con|quer."
     --The fair-eyed maids shall weep our banishments,
     And in their songs curse ever-blinded For|tune,
     Till she for shame see what a wrong she has done
     To youth and Nature.--This is all our world:
     We shall know nothing here but one anoth|er,--
     Hear nothing but the clock that tells our woes;
     The vine shall grow, but we shall never see | it:
     Summer shall come, and with her all delights,
     But dead-cold winter must inhabit here | still!

     _Palamon._ 'Tis too true, Arcite! To our Theban hounds,
     That shook the aged forest with their ech|oes,
     No more now must we halloo; no more shake
     Our pointed javelins, whilst the angry swine
     Flies like a Parthian[37:2] quiver from our rag|es,
     Struck with our well-steel'd darts....

In this scene there is one train of metaphors which is perhaps as
characteristic of Fletcher as any thing that could be produced.
[Sidenote: Lines from II. i. on page 38, of slow orderly development of
ideas, markt by Fletcher's characteristics.] It is marked by a slowness
of association which he often shews. Several allusions are successively
introduced; but by each, as it appears, we are prepared for and can
anticipate the next; we see the connection of ideas in the poet's mind
through which the one has sprung out of the other, and that all are but
branches, of which one original thought is the root. [Sidenote: No leap
to the end, and off with a fresh bound, like Shakspere.] All this is the
work of [37:3]a less fertile fancy and a more tardy understanding than
Shakspeare's: he would have leaped over many of the intervening steps,
and, reaching at once the most remote particular of the series, would
have immediately turned away to weave some
we e'er see, 
      To glad our age, and like young eagles teach | them 
      Boldly to gaze against undimmed arm, and say, 
      " Remember what your father were, and con|quer. " 
      --The average - eyed maids shall weep our banishment, 
      And in their birdcall curse always - blind For|tune, 
      Till she for shame experience what a wrong she has done 
      To youth and Nature.--This is all our earth: 
      We shall acknowledge nothing here but one anoth|er,-- 
      Hear nothing but the clock that tells our woes; 
      The vine shall grow, but we shall never see | it: 
      Summer shall arrive, and with her all delights, 
      But dead - cold winter must inhabit here | even! 

      _ Palamon. _' Tis too true, Arcite! To our Theban hounds, 
      That shook the aged forest with their ech|oes, 
      No more nowadays must we halloo; no more shake 
      Our pointed javelins, whilst the angry swine 
      Flies like a Parthian[37:2 ] quiver from our rag|es, 
      Struck with our well - steel'd flit.... 

 In this scene there is one train of metaphors which is perhaps as 
 characteristic of Fletcher as any thing that could be produced. 
 [ Sidenote: Lines from II. i. on page 38, of slow orderly development of 
 ideas, markt by Fletcher's characteristics. ] It is marked by a slowness 
 of association which he frequently shews. Several allusion are successively 
 insert; but by each, as it appears, we are prepared for and can 
 anticipate the future; we see the connection of ideas in the poet's mind 
 through which the one has spring out of the other, and that all are but 
 branches, of which one original thought is the root. [ Sidenote: No jump 
 to the end, and off with a fresh bound, like Shakspere. ] All this is the 
 work of [ 37:3]a less fertile fancy and a more belated reason than 
 Shakspeare's: he would have leaped over many of the intervening steps, 
 and, reaching at once the about remote particular of the series, would 
 have immediately turned away to weave some
 we e'er see,
     To glad our age, and like young eajles tezch | theo
     Boldly to gaze against beight arms, and say,
     "Remeober what your farherw were, and rkn|quer."
     --Ths faix-ebed maids shall weep our tanishments,
     Xnb in their songs curse ever-blinded Fjr|tune,
     Till she for shakq ses what a wrong she has done
     To youth end Nature.--This os all our world:
     We shwll nnow nothing here hut one anojg|er,--
     Hear notfing but the clock thaj tells our woes;
     The vine shxll gxow, but we whqll tever see | mt:
     Summer shall come, atd with her all deligmts,
     Vut dead-cold winter mnst inhabit here | styll!

     _Pdlcmon._ 'Tis too true, Arcutw! To mur Dhebxb huunss,
     Thah siook the agsd forest wuth their ech|oes,
     Gi more now muat we rajloo; no more shake
     Our pointed javenina, whilst the angry swinw
     Flies like a Patthian[37:2] quider from our rag|es,
     Struck with our well-steel'd darta....

Kn uhlf wcfne there is one train of metaphors which is [srnais as
characteristlc of Fletcher as snj yring that couud be 'dosuced.
[Sidenote: Lined from YI. i. in page 38, jf skow orderly development of
ieeas, markt bj Flwtcher's characteridtics.] It is marled bu a slowness
of associatnon whjch he oftej shews. Ssxeral allusions xre sgccessivtuy
introduced; but fy each, aw it appearr, we are pwepared fog and can
anticipate the jext; ce sea the connfction of ideas in the poet's miiv
through whicn dhe one has sprukg out of the oeher, and that cll are yut
bravches, of wgich onx original trought is the toot. [Sidenote: No leap
eo tye ebd, and uwf with a fresn bound, lpkt Shaksperw.] All this is the
wprk kf [37:3]a less fertioe dancy and a morr txrdr lndxrstagging than
Shanspexre'r: he wuuld have lcapdd ofer many of the intesvenjng steps,
and, reachonn at once the mose remote partocular of the serits, wound
heve imkedyately turned away to weave soje
we e'er see, To glad our age, young teach | Boldly to gaze "Remember your fathers were, con|quer." --The fair-eyed shall weep our banishments, And in songs curse ever-blinded For|tune, Till she for shame see what a wrong she done To youth and Nature.--This is all our world: We shall know nothing but anoth|er,-- nothing the clock that tells our woes; The vine shall grow, but we shall never see | Summer shall come, and with her all delights, dead-cold winter must inhabit | still! _Palamon._ 'Tis too Arcite! our Theban That the forest with their No more now must we halloo; no more shake Our pointed javelins, whilst the angry swine Flies a Parthian[37:2] our rag|es, with well-steel'd In this scene one train of metaphors which is of Fletcher as any thing that could be [Sidenote: Lines II. i. on page 38, of orderly development of ideas, markt by Fletcher's characteristics.] is marked by a slowness of association which he often shews. Several allusions are successively by each, as it we are prepared and anticipate next; see the of ideas in the poet's mind through which the one has out of the other, and that all are but branches, one thought is the [Sidenote: No leap to end, off with a fresh Shakspere.] this of less fancy and a more understanding than Shakspeare's: he would leaped over many of at once the most remote particular of the would have immediately turned away to weave
 we e'er see,
     To glad our age, and liKe young eagLes teAch | TheM
     BOldlY to gAze against brigHT armS, and say,
     "Remember what youR fathErS Were, ANd Con|quEr."
     --The faIR-eYED maIdS sHalL wEEp Our baNisHments,
     ANd in their sOngS cUrse ever-blinDEd for|tune,
     TilL shE for shame see WhaT a wronG sHe hAS done
     to yOuth aNd NatuRE.--This iS all our woRlD:
     we shalL Know notHINg Here But one anoth|er,--
     Hear NOtHIng but the clock That teLlS OuR WOes;
     the Vine shall gRoW, but wE Shall neVEr SEE | It:
     SUMmer shall come, And with her aLL deLights,
     buT deAD-cold wInter MuST inHabit here | stIll!

     _PAlamon._ 'Tis Too truE, arcite! TO Our ThebAn hounDs,
     THat ShooK ThE aGed FoREst WItH thEIr eCh|oes,
     No mOrE nOw musT we hALLOO; no mOre ShakE
     Our pOinted javelinS, whIlst THe aNgry sWine
     FLies LiKe a PaRthian[37:2] QuiveR fRom our rag|es,
     StruCk wiTh our well-SteEl'D daRtS....

In thIS scene TheRe iS one traIn of metAPhoRs WHICh Is perhaps as
charactErISTiC of FletcHer as aNY tHiNG that couLd Be pRoduCED.
[SideNote: lInEs from II. I. on pagE 38, Of SlOw orderLy DeveloPmEnt Of
iDeas, mARkt bY FletcHer's charActerIStics.] It is markeD By a slowness
of ASsOCIaTIon wHicH he often sheWs. SeVEral AlluSIoNs aRE succEssivElY
InTRoduced; but by each, as iT aPpears, We are Prepared for anD can
anticiPATE the next; We seE ThE Connection of idEas in The poet's miND
through Which The one haS sprung ouT OF the otheR, anD thAt aLl aRE BuT
branches, of whICH one OrIginal tHouGht is thE roOt. [SIdeNotE: NO leap
to thE end, and oFf WiTh A fResH bounD, Like ShakSpEre.] alL thIs is tHE
work oF [37:3]a lesS ferTiLe FAncY and a moRE tARDy unDeRsTandIng ThAn
ShaKspeARe's: He would Have leapeD ovER manY oF tHe interVening steps,
anD, rEaching at oNcE thE most rEMOte partiCular of the series, would
haVE immediAteLy turNed aWay to weavE soMe
 we e'er see,
     To glad  our age,and l ike  yo un g ea gles  teach | them   Boldly to gaze against  brig ht arms ,  a nd sa y,
   "R e m emb er  w hat  y o ur  fath ers  were,and con|qu er. "     --The f a ir -eyed maid s s hall weep ou r b anishm en ts,     And  in t heir s o ngs cu rse ever- bl i nded F o r|tune,    Ti ll she for shames ee what a wrong s he has  d o ne    To  youth and  N ature . --Thisi sa l l  ou r  world:
    We shall kn o w n othing  h ere but on e ano th | er, --
     Hea r no thing but  the c l ock tha t  tellsour wo es; 
    T h evi nesh a llg ro w,b utwe shall  n ev er se e |i t :     Su mmer  shal l come, and w ith  her all  deli ghts, 
   But d ead-co ld wi nt er must inhabit  her e | still !
   _P alamo n ._ 'Ti s t ootrue, A rcite!T o o ur T h eb an hounds,
     Th at s ho ok the a ged fo r es tw ith thei rech |oes ,     No m o re  now mus t we h a ll oo ; no mo re  shake 
   Ou r poi n tedjaveli ns, whil st th e  angry swine
   Flies like aP a rt h ian[ 37: 2] quiver f romo ur r ag|e s ,   Stru ck wi th ou r  well-steel'd darts .. ..

In  this  scene thereis one tra i n of metap hors wh i ch is perhapsas
ch aracterist i c of Fle tcher  as anything tha t could be  pr odu ced .
[ S i de note: Lines f r o m II .i. on p age  38, of  sl oword erl ydevelopme nt of
id ea s,  m ar ktby Fl e tcher'sch ara ct eri stics . ] It i s mar kedby  a slo wness
o f  a s s ocia ti on  whi chhe  ofte n sh e ws.  Severa l allusio nsa re s uc ce ssively 
introduced;bu t by each,  a s i t appe a r s, we ar e prepared for and cana nticipa tethe n ext;  we see t heconnec tio n  of id eas in  thepo et' s mindt h ro ugh  w hich the o n e  ha s spr un g ou t of th e other, and thata llare but
branc hes , of w hi cho ne ori gi n alt h ought is the ro ot. [Siden ot e :No leap
to the  e nd, and  off wi th af resh bo und, like  Shaksper e. ] Al l thi s is the
w ork of [ 37:3]a le s s fer t il e fan cyand amo retardy  under s tan dingthan
S ha kspear e's:he  would h ave leaped over many of  the i nterv eni ng steps, 
an d , r eaching a t on ce the mos t r emo te pa rti c ularof t h eser i es, w ould have imme d ia tel y tu rned away t o w eav e som e
 we_e'er see,
_   _To glad_our_age, and_like_young eagles teach_| them
 _   Boldly_to gaze against_bright_arms, and say,
     "Remember what your fathers were, and con|quer."
__ __--The_fair-eyed maids shall weep our_banishments,
    _And in_their songs curse ever-blinded For|tune,
   __Till she for_shame see what a wrong she has done
 _   To youth and_Nature.--This is all_our_world:
_   _We shall know nothing here but_one anoth|er,--
    _Hear nothing but the clock that tells_our woes;
    _The vine shall grow, but_we shall_never see | it:
 _  _Summer shall_come, and with_her all delights,
   _ But dead-cold_winter must inhabit here | still!

__  __Palamon.__'Tis_too true,_Arcite! To our_Theban_hounds,
 __  That shook the aged_forest_with their ech|oes,
    _No more now must_we_halloo; no more shake
_    Our_pointed javelins, whilst the angry swine
_ _ _Flies like a Parthian[37:2] quiver from our rag|es,
   _ Struck with our well-steel'd darts....

In_this scene there is_one train_of_metaphors which is_perhaps_as
characteristic of_Fletcher as any thing that could be_produced.
[Sidenote: Lines_from II. i. on page 38,_of slow orderly development_of
ideas,_markt by Fletcher's characteristics.] It is_marked by a slowness
of association which_he often shews. Several allusions_are_successively
introduced;_but by each, as it_appears, we are prepared for and_can
anticipate the next;_we see the connection of ideas in_the_poet's mind
through which the one has_sprung_out of the other, and that_all_are_but
branches, of which one original_thought is the root. [Sidenote: No_leap
to the end, and off with a fresh bound,_like Shakspere.] All_this is the
work of [37:3]a_less_fertile_fancy and a more tardy understanding than
Shakspeare's: he would have_leaped over_many of the_intervening steps,
and, reaching at once the most remote particular of_the series, would
have immediately turned away to_weave some