How these few words shed round us all the loveliness of the Italian night! Or that other where the moonshine of the warm summer night brightens the last scenes of the “Merchant of Venice,” and calls up, as only moonlight can, all wild and fascinating memories of legend and romance:—
“Lorenzo. The moon shines bright: In such a night as this,
When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees,
And they did make no noise; in such a night
Troilus, methinks, mounted the Trojan walls,
And sigh’d his soul toward the Grecian tents,
Where Cressid lay that night.
“Jessica. In such a night
Did Thisbe fearfully o’ertrip the dew;
And saw the lion’s shadow ere himself,