King. [1] Let nothing but a face of joy appear; The man who frowns this day shall lose his head, That he may have no face to frown withal. Smile Dollallolla—Ha! what wrinkled sorrow [2] Hangs, sits, lies, frowns upon thy knitted brow? Whence flow those tears fast down thy blubber'd cheeks, Like a swoln gutter, gushing through the streets?

[Footnote 1: Phraortes, in the Captives, seems to have been acquainted with King Arthur:

Proclaim a festival for seven days' space,
Let the court shine in all its pomp and lustre,
Let all our streets resound with shouts of joy;
Let musick's care-dispelling voice be heard;
The sumptuous banquet and the flowing goblet
Shall warm the cheek and fill the heart with gladness.
Astarbe shall sit mistress of the feast.

]

[Footnote 2:

Repentance frowns on thy contracted brow.—Sophonisba.

Hung on his clouded brow, I mark'd despair.—Ibid.

—A sullen gloom
Scowls on his brow.—Busiris.
]

Queen. [1]Excess of joy, my lord, I've heard folks say, Gives tears as certain as excess of grief.

[Footnote 1: Plato is of this opinion, and so is Mr Banks:

Behold these tears sprung from fresh pain and joy.
—Earl of Essex.
]

King. If it be so, let all men cry for joy, [1]Till my whole court be drowned with their tears; Nay, till they overflow my utmost land, And leave me nothing but the sea to rule.

[Footnote 1: These floods are very frequent in the tragick authors:

Near to some murmuring brook I'll lay me down,
Whose waters, if they should too shallow flow,
My tears shall swell them up till I will drown.
—Lee's Sophonisba.

Pouring forth tears at such a lavish rate,
That were the world on fire they might have drown'd
The wrath of heaven, and quench'd the mighty ruin.
—Mithridates.

One author changes the waters of grief to those of joy:

——These tears, that sprung from tides of grief,
Are now augmented to a flood of joy.—Cyrus the Great.

Another:

Turns all the streams of heat, and makes them flow
In pity's channel.—Royal Villain.

One drowns himself:

——Pity like a torrent pours me down,
Now I am drowning all within a deluge.—Anna Sullen.

Cyrus drowns the whole world:

Our swelling grief
Shall melt into a deluge, and the world
Shall drown in tears.—Cyrus the Great.
]

Dood. My liege, I a petition have here got.

King. Petition me no petitions, sir, to-day:
Let other hours be set apart for business.
To-day it is our pleasure to be [1]drunk.
And this our queen shall be as drunk as we.

[Footnote 1: An expression vastly beneath the dignity of tragedy, says
Mr D—s, yet we find the word he cavils at in the mouth of
Mithridates less properly used, and applied to a more terrible
idea:

I would be drunk with death.—Mithridates.

The author of the New Sophonisba taketh hold of this monosyllable, and uses it pretty much to the same purpose:

The Carthaginian sword with Roman blood
Was drunk.

I would ask Mr D—s which gives him the best idea, a drunken king, or a drunken sword?

Mr Tate dresses up King Arthur's resolution in heroick:

Merry, my lord, o' th' captain's humour right,
I am resolved to be dead drunk to-night.

Lee also uses this charming word:

Love's the drunkenness of the mind.—Gloriana. ]

Queen. (Though I already[1] half seas over am)
If the capacious goblet overflow
With arrack punch——'fore George! I'll see it out:
Of rum and brandy I'll not taste a drop.

[Footnote 1: Dryden hath borrowed this, and applied it improperly:

I'm half seas o'er in death.—Cleomenes ]

King. Though rack, in punch, eight shillings be a quart, And rum and brandy be no more than six, Rather than quarrel you shall have your will. [Trumpets. But, ha! the warrior comes—the great Tom Thumb, The little hero, giant-killing boy, Preserver of my kingdom, is arrived.