The soul was never put into the body,
Which has so many rare and curious pieces
Of mathematical motion, to stand still.
Virtue is ever sowing of her seeds;
I’ th’ trenches for the soldiers, i’ th’ wakeful study
For the scholar, in the furrows of the sea
For men of our profession, of all which
Arise and spring up honour.”
This recalls to mind the speech of Ulysses to Achilles in “Troilus and Cressida,” a piece of eloquence which, for the impetuous charge of serried argument and poetic beauty of illustration, grows more marvellous with every reading. But it is hardly fair to any other poet to let him remind us of Shakespeare.
Contarino, on leaving Romelio, goes to Leonora, the mother, who immediately conceives a violent passion for him. He, by way of a pretty compliment, tells her that he has a suit to her, and that it is for her picture. By this he meant her daughter, but with the flattering implication that you would not know the parent from the child. Leonora, of course, takes him literally, is gracious accordingly, and Contarino is satisfied that he has won her consent also. This scene gives occasion for a good example of Webster’s more playful style, which is perhaps worth quoting. Still apropos of her portrait, Leonora says:—