on exults in no measured terms, the confusion is nowhere but in
his own heavy obtuseness of sentiment and perception, and his want of
poetical faith. Look into the old Italian poets, whom we read
continually with still increasing pleasure; does any one think of
sitting down to disprove the existence of Ariodante, king of Scotland?
or to prove that the mention of Proteus and Pluto, baptism and the
Virgin Mary, in a breath, amounts to an anachronism? Shakspeare, by
throwing his story far back into a remote and uncertain age, has
blended, by his "own omnipotent will," the marvellous, the heroic, the
ideal, and the classical,--the extreme of refinement and the extreme of
simplicity,--into one of the loveliest fictions of romantic poetry; and,
to use Schlegel's expression, "has made the social manners of the latest
times harmonize with heroic deeds, and even with the appearances of the
gods."[57]

But, admirable as is the conduct of the whole play, rich in variety of
character and in picturesque incident, its chief beauty and interest is
derived from Imogen.

When Ferdinand tells Miranda that she was "created of every creature's
best," he speaks like a lover, or refers only to her personal charms:
the same expression might be applied critically to the character of
Imogen; for, as the portrait of Miranda is produced by resolving the
female character into its original elements, so that of Imogen unites
the greatest number of those qualities which we imagine to constitute
excellency in woman.

Imogen, like Juliet, conveys to our mind the impression of extreme
simplicity in the midst of the most wonderful complexity. To conceive
her aright, we must take some peculiar tint from many characters, and so
mingle them, that, like the combination of hues in a sunbeam, the effect
shall be as one to the eye. We must imagine something of the romantic
enthusiasm of Juliet, of the truth and constancy of Helen, of the
dignified purity of Isabel, of the tender sweetness of Viola, of the
self-possession and intellect of Portia--combined together so equally
and so harmoniously, that we can scarcely say that one quality
predominates over the other. But Imogen is less imaginative than Juliet,
less spirited and intellectual than Portia, less serious than Helen and
Isabel; her dignity is not so imposing as that of Hermione, it stands
more on the defensive; her submission, though unbounded, is not so
passive as that of Desdemona; and thus while s