R,CHARD MONCKTON MILNES was born in the year - OUDL Home

172 Harley Granville-Barkerrhetoric; and he never comes to despise even the conventionalclaptrap of the rhymed couplet, for the effectivewhipping up of a scene's end.Tennyson's verse was, almost inevitably, of anothercast. He had written all his life to be read rather thanspoken. He wrote reflectively, analytically. This mightnot have mattered—it never mattered with Shakespeare—hadthere been the primary emotion beneath;but there so seldom is. His verse does not vibrate. Hewrote now pathetically, now fancifully; and he couldnever fail in dignity.Cranmer's confession of faith:Good people, every man at time of deathWould fain set forth some saying that may liveAfter his death and better humankind;For death gives life's last word the power to live,And, like the stone cut epitaph, remainAfter the vanished voice, and speak to men....(One remembers Buckingham's farewell. Fletcher's workis it—which is also as apt to lack underlying passion?Tennyson suffers not at all by comparison here.)The tale of his burning:Then Cranmer lifted his left hand to heavenAnd thrust his right into the bitter flame;And crying in his deep voice more than once,'This hath offended—this unworthy hand!'So held it till it all was burned, beforeThe flame had reached his body; I stood near—Mark'd him—he never uttered moan of pain:He never stirr'd or writhed, but, like a statueUnmoving in the greatness of the flame,Gave up the ghost....(How fine! But it is narrative, and not immediatelydramatic. He outruns the allowance of narrative properto a play, for it is a very small one. A temptation, this,to most practised writers turning dramatist!)