And breath'd from Marble Lungs.] How judiciously does our Poet furnish his Monarch with Lungs adapted to every thing about him For had they been of meer Flesh and Blood, they muft have thaw'd his Throne, his Coach, and his very Dominions, and forced the poor Prince to paddle in warm Water of his own making. Swift from the Puff defcends a faline Shower, The knitting Winds exert their utmoft Power. Why is the Shower faline? Because all Salts are cold, and as the Breath that proceeds from Marble Lungs muft of confequence be cold, it may therefore be called faline. We are alfo to fuppofe the Monarch puffed away as faft as he could, fo that he may be faid to fhower out his Breath. The knitting Winds.] Some other Copies have it knotting, which Burman prefers, as being a more genteel Employment than that of Knitting. But the Context will not bear it. The Allufion is to a Hole in a Stocking, to which the Hole in the Ice is compared; and therefore 'twas neceffary that the Winds fhould be Mafters of the Knitting-Needle to be able to repair the Breach. In vain,-in vain-the lucid Footing gone, Reader, didft thou ever see a long ghaftly Figure of nothing but Bones with an Hour-glafs and Sithe in his Hands, on a Country Tomb-ftone, or before an old Ballad of Death and the Lady? If thou haft, then wilt thou eafily perceive the Propriety of this Image, and conclude that March has Reason to have his Eyes frighted at the grinning, bony Form. Who is is meant by March, fee my Note above on this Line. March views his vent'rous Feet, &c. and you will find that the Eye-brows were tortured then by Fear, as much as the Eyes are frighted here : Yet from his Reach to reach his Brother flies.] How elegant is the Repetition of Reach? 'Tis true, this is not fo agreeable to the Common Way of Speaking; for though I can fay, Reach me hither fuch a Thing, yet you cannot fay, No, I will reach it from your Reach. But fuch fublime Poets, as our Author, are above being confined within the narrow Limits of Sense. The fractur'd Cover bursts beneath his Weight, That is, ere the Water rofe as high as his Mouth. "We are to fuppofe that the Water was very defirous of kiffing him, and fought with Itfelf about it; whence arofe a liquid Strife. Paffages of Life.] As Food is the Staff of Life, and paffes in at the Mouth, through the Throat &c. they are elegantly called Paffages of Life. Janus Doufa will have it, that by this Expreffion is meant the Paffage behind, through which, fays he, the Food paffes out; and 'tis not exprefly determined by the Author whether he meant the Fore or the Back Door of Life. But it is fcarce probable that the Water rofe up no higher nor would it be quite fo decent to say that the Water wanted to kiss his Long in the muffled Firmament, the Rain Belly'd Belly'd is certainly corrupt. We fhould read, belyed; for the cloudy Spunges feemed to fay, 'we fhould have Rain; but the Kain would not come ..down, and therefore gave the Spunges the Lie. Or perhaps our Author, who is fond of Metaphors, wrote the Line thus: Jelly'd i'th' cloudy Spunges, &c. that is, the Rain turned to a stiff Jelly, and confequently could not flow in Drops. Either Reading is extremely juft and elegant. W-RB-RT-N. Cloudy Spunges of the Main.] This is agreeable to Philofophy which teaches, that the Clouds fpunge upon the Sea, till they have fucked their Beliy-full of Liquor, and then they are squeezed 'till they are dry again, which forms Rain. This Squeezing is Jove's Office, as is told by two Lines fubfequent to these, in the Cotton MS. and which are certainly our Author's, who gives us in them another Source of Rain. [Which Jove refus'd thro' fine-ey'd Sieves to fqueeze, Or from his Nofe prolific Drops to sneeze.] Left falling, running to the Pool beneath, Too high't fhould hold the Silver Snare of Death. But why Silver? Would not a Copper or Brass one, do as well? But I never heard that Fishing-Nets were ever made of Metal. They are generally made of Packthread; but as Death was a Gentleman-Fisher he might use one made of Silk Twift, and therefore I'm inclined to think our Poet wrote, filken Snare; which I have accordingly restored. TH-B-LD. What would the blockheadly Restorer be at? He is caught in a Leaden Snare, I am fure. By Silver Snare the Poet means, pale or white; Silver being always an Emblem of that Colour. W-RB-RT-N, The The Poet very judic***y t*lls us tha* ***tation of th* *** had bee*. As there is but one Copy of these truly-valuable Notes, preferved in the Cotton Library, it is in vain to hope that this Hiatus valde Deflendus can ever be reftored. For -Quod nec Jovis ira, nec ignis, Nec potuit ferrum, nec edax abolere Vetuftas, What nor offended Jove's avenging Ire, Than Time, or Jove more fell, or Fire, or Savage A N INSPECTOR NUMBER 66666, The Man, that hath no Mufic in his Soul, SHAKESPEARE. FTER I had chatted away an Hour or fo Bedford, I went off in a Coranto, whipped into my Chariot, and drove away to the Concert in DeanStreet. When I had run over every pretty Face in that Affembly worth looking at, I directed my Coachman to go to the Theatre. I entered the right Hand Stage-box; a general Whisper went round the House: every Eye was fixed on my Perfon, though Barry was in one of the most tender and pathetic Parts of Othello. Presently after, the Mufic ftruck up the Men of Fashion in the Boxes leered towards me with a Smile of Approbation: the Pretty dear Creatures fluttered their Fans at me: the City Gallants of the first Gallery perused me with a stare of Aftonishment; and the peasant Inhabitants among the Gods looked as if they were afking one another, Which is He?In the mean Time, the fhrill Cry of Oranges and Nonpareils, |