Pauses are like to dwell longer upon hand than I imagined; for the subject is not yet exhausted. It is laid down above, that English heroic verse, considering melody only, admits no more than four capital pauses; and that the capital pause of every line is determined by the sense to be after the fourth, the fifth, the sixth, or seventh syllable. And that this doctrine holds true so far as melody alone is concerned, every good ear will bear testimony. At the same time, examples are not unfrequent, in Milton especially, of the capital pause being after the first, the second, or the third syllable. And that this licence may be taken, even gracefully, when it adds vigour to the expression, I readily admit. So far the sound may be justly sacrificed to the sense or expression. That this licence may be successfully taken, will be clear from the following example. Pope, in his translation of Homer, describes a rock broke off from a mountain, and hurling to the plain, in the following words.
From steep to steep the rolling ruin bounds;
At every shock the crackling wood resounds;
Still gath’ring force, it smokes; and urg’d amain,
Whirls, leaps, and thunders down, impetuous to the plain:
There stops || So Hector. Their whole force he prov’d,
Resistless when he rag’d; and when he stopt, unmov’d.
In the penult line the proper place of the musical pause is at the end of the fifth syllable; but it enlivens the expression by its coincidence with that of the sense at the end of the second syllable. The stopping short before the usual pause in the melody, aids the impression that is made by the description of the stone’s stopping short. And what is lost to the melody by this artifice, is more than compensated by the force that is added to the description. Milton makes a happy use of this licence; witness the following examples from his Paradise Lost.
—————— Thus with the year
Seasons return, but not to me returns
Day || or the sweet approach of even or morn.
Celestial voices to the midnight-air
Sole || or responsive each to others note.
And over them triumphant Death his dart
Shook || but delay’d to strike.
—— And wild uproar
Stood rul’d || stood vast infinitude confin’d.
———— And hard’ning in his strength
Glories || for never since created man
Met such embodied force.
From his slack hand the garland wreath’d for Eve
Down drop’d || and all the faded roses shed.
Of unessential night, receives him next,
Wide gaping || and with utter loss of being
Threatens him, &c.