The crimes of Constance are multiplied in like manner to
such a degree, as both to destroy our interest in her fate, and to
violate all probability. Her elopement was enough to bring on her doom;
and we should have felt more for it, if it had appeared a little more
unmerited. She is utterly debased, when she becomes the instrument of
Marmion's murderous perfidy, and the assassin of her unwilling rival.
De Wilton, again, is too much depressed throughout the poem. It is
rather dangerous for a poet to chuse a hero who has been beaten in fair
battle. The readers of romance do not like an unsuccessful warrior; but
to be beaten in a judicial combat, and to have his arms reversed and
tied on the gallows, is an adventure which can only be expiated by
signal prowess and exemplary revenge, achieved against great odds, in
full view of the reader. The unfortunate De Wilton, however, carries the
stain upon him from one end of the poem to the other. He wanders up and
down, a dishonoured fugitive, in the disguise of a palmer, through the
five first books; and though he is knighted and mounted again in the
last, yet we see nothing of his performances; nor is the author merciful
enough to afford him one opportunity of redeeming his credit by an
exploit of gallantry or skill.
Pages:
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194