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

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

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180 Harley Granville-BarkerTheir souls be k<strong>in</strong>dled to devour for preyThe people that would make its prey of <strong>the</strong>mAnd leave God's altar stripped of sacramentAs all k<strong>in</strong>gs' heads of sovereignty, and makeBare as <strong>the</strong>ir thrones his temples; I will setThe old th<strong>in</strong>gs of his hol<strong>in</strong>ess on highThat are brought low, and break beneath my feetThese new th<strong>in</strong>gs of men's fashion; I will sitAnd see tears flow from eyes that saw me weepAnd dust and ashes and <strong>the</strong> shadow of deathCast from <strong>the</strong> block beneath <strong>the</strong> axe that fallsOn heads that saw me humbled; I will do it,Or bow m<strong>in</strong>e own down to no royal endAnd give my blood for <strong>the</strong>irs if God's will be,But come back never as I now go forthWith but <strong>the</strong> hate of men to track my wayAnd not <strong>the</strong> face of any friend alive.Mary Beaton. But I will never leave you till you die.—ends it, but for Mary Beaton's echo<strong>in</strong>g murmur; wistful,s<strong>in</strong>ister. Sw<strong>in</strong>burne had evidently planned to l<strong>in</strong>kup his Trilogy by this strange recurr<strong>in</strong>g note of fatidicdevotion to <strong>the</strong> Queen, blent with <strong>the</strong> patient hunger forvengeance to fall on her for Chastelard's betrayal, ahunger to be sated at last. But <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> densities of Bothwell<strong>the</strong> effect is lost.This last scene is true drama; it will answer to any test.If it seems not to fit <strong>the</strong> work-a-day <strong>the</strong>atre, a <strong>the</strong>atre canbe moulded for it. Au<strong>the</strong>ntic art has never failed of <strong>in</strong>terpretationyet. Could Sw<strong>in</strong>burne but have discipl<strong>in</strong>edhimself, not to <strong>the</strong> mechanics of a given stage, but to <strong>the</strong><strong>in</strong>evitable rigour of dramatic form; could he have relaxedand lost himself a little <strong>in</strong> its amenities (Had henot been Sw<strong>in</strong>burne! Yes, it always comes to that), hisplays would have won <strong>the</strong>ir <strong>the</strong>atre <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> end; and thisnone too opulent <strong>the</strong>atre of ours would have won adramatist and poet as well.What of Meredith's place <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> story? It wouldseem, by virtue of but a few scattered scraps of dialogue,

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