Her left leant on a staff, in her right hand Her cell was hewn out of the marble rock, Their rich attire so diff'ring; yet so well After a low salute they all 'gan sing, That he was not himself: nor did he know What place he was in, or how he came there, With what would ruin him; She represents a banquet, usher'd in By such a shape, as she was sure would win The virtues of the herb, however, resist all the enchantments of Orandra, and he leaves the cave in safety, taking Pandevius with him. at the last They came into the plain, where a small brook And by it, here and there, a shepherd's cot They are received with hospitable welcome in this retreat by Eubolus, a man courtly educated, wise, and sage, Able to teach, yet willing to enrich Alexis, having secured possession of the throne, sinks into a lethargy of grief, from which he is at length roused by the increasing danger which threatened Arcadia, from the piratical incursions of some of the desperate adherents of the late king, who had established themselves in a small island near the Arcadian coast. Alexis collects his forces, and, by his conduct and valour, speedily overcomes and exterminates the rebels. Returning in triumph to his capital, he is struck by the beauty of Florimel, who, among others, attends to strew his way with flowers in honour of his victory; but his advances are coldly repulsed by " Diana's votaress." "That night perforce They all were glad within the open plain To pitch their tents, where many a shepherd swain The king rises next morning with heavy cheer to renew his march. In his way he meets Memnon, and recognizing him as the father of Florimel, receives him graciously, and orders him to attend him at court. Memnon, haunted with the idea that Alexis was his long-lost son, determines to accept his invitation, and orders his daughter, much against her inclination, to prepare to accompany him. Anaxus, meanwhile, obtaining from Eubolus an account of Florimel and Memnon, suspects that they are his mistress and her father, "the banished Codrus," whom he had been long seeking. He sets out to visit a sort of convent, where Florimel resided along with Diana's nymphs, and, after some difficulty, obtains access to her. Clarinda came at last With all her train, who, as along she pass'd And fring'd about with gold: white buskins hide After an interview of hesitation and doubt, they are satisfied of each other's identity, and give a loose to joy. They are soon obliged, by the rules of the convent, to separate, and Anaxus returns to the house of his friend Eubolus, to deliberate on the means of escaping with Clarinda. Cleon and Rhotus arriving at court, find the king conferring with Sylvanus, whom he had sent for to expound a strange dream which troubled his fancy. "One might perceive such changes in the king, As hath th' inconstant welkin in the spring; Now a fair day, anon a dropsie cloud Puts out the sun, and in a sable shroud The day seems buried; when the clouds are o'er, Alexis receives Rhotus with grateful warmth, and recognizes Cleon as a Lemnian friend. Rhotus, perceiving the king greatly oppressed by the painful recollections which their presence conjured up, after sounding him for a time, to ascertain the truth of his conjectures, informs Clearchus, that she whom he wept as drowned was preserved, and that "Thealma lives." "And here the Author died, and I hope the reader will be sorry," adds old Izaak, and sorry we are to take our leave of thee, Chalkhill or Walton, or "whatever title please thine ear." It is no very easy task, nor is it altogether fair, to criticise the merits of an unfinished tale; but no conclusion could have rendered the story of Thealma and Clearchus either very clear or very interesting, though revision might probably have removed many incongruities and unnecessary entanglements. In its present state, it is so interrupted and involved as to defy the patience and attention of the mere reader. The chronological succession of events is continually lost sight of, and an episode is not unfrequently introduced by one character, continued by another, and concluded by a third, at different times, and under different circumstances. The unfinished state of the poem assuredly adds to its perplexity, from our ignorance of the object to which these several details tend, but we cannot conceive that any winding-up could have extricated the reader satisfactorily from its labyrinth of stories. The characters in Thealma and Clearchus are drawn without much force or distinctness of outline. Alexis and Anaxus, Thealma and Clarinda, Memnon and Rhotus, differ from each other only in name. Chalkhill's heroes are brave and amorous; his ladies chaste and beautiful; his old men wise and virtuous; his tyrants haughty and licentious: but the finer traits of individuality are wanting, and his characters are rather unsubstantial abstractions of good or evil, than living and breathing forms, with their own peculiar feelings and impulses. Nor are the incidents of the poem conceived with much felicity, or brought about with much attention to probability. The nearest relatives and the fondest lovers jostle against one another at every turn, without the slightest suspicion of each other's identity. The versification of Thealma and Clearchus, as our readers must have remarked, is extremely sweet and equable. Occasionally harsh lines and unlicensed rhymes occur, but they are only exceptions to the general style of the poem, the errors of haste or negligence. The author had evidently a fine ear for metrical harmony, and his "pastoral historie" will bear an advantageous comparison with the works of any of his contempo |