“For the life to come, I sleep out the thought of it.”
Fine as this is, and delicately characteristic of one who had lived and
been reared in the best society, and had been precipitated from it by dice
and drabbing; yet still it strikes against my feelings as a note out of
tune, and as not coalescing with that pastoral tint which gives such a
charm to this act. It is too Macbeth-like in the “snapper up of
unconsidered trifles.”
_Ib._ sc. 4. Perdita’s speech:—
“From Dis’s waggon! daffodils.”
An epithet is wanted here, not merely or chiefly for the metre, but for
the balance, for the æsthetic logic. Perhaps “golden” was the word which
would set off the “violets dim.”
_Ib._—
... “Pale primroses
That die unmarried.”