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Review of Mirandola.

Once for your mother's sake; ay, for your own.
I had brave hopes, but you have blighted them ;—
But I may write to Rome.

Guido. I hope you will.

Duke.

If what I think is wrong: no matter, you
Shall hear from me at Rome.

Guido. At Rome, then.

Duke.

If

My power, or my purse be wanting—ever,
(Death! I shall play the fool!)—if ever I
Can serve you, let me know, and 't shall be done.
This from my old affection will I do.

Some one has used me ill-some one has struck And tortured me. Let me look on you.-You Had always a brave look ;-ay, from a boy. Guido. I wore my innocence there, and in my heart. Well, well; no more; you'll see the Dutchess Ere you leave us.

Duke.

Guido. No, my lord.

Duke.

You'll see her? Nay

Guido. 'Tis better not. I leave Mirandola

To night.

Duke.

But first

Guido.

Duke.

Pray, spare me.

Then-why then

Fare you well, Guido: for it must come to that
At last.-Farewell! yet, wheresoe'er you go,
Still do not quite forget Mirandola.

You have had happy hours and pleasant thoughts,
And I-I have had some: in infancy

1-(tho' I was a prince) would not confide
My son to hirelings. I have stood and watched
You sleeping, (then I dared not own you, for
My father lived,) while poor Bianca wept.
Oh! I have watched you with a cotter's care,
Thro' many and many a night :-'tis so; and now
Mountains and stormy seas will come between
Our hearts. While you are wandering, I shall be
Shut in my palace,—prisoned up,—a slave :
What else are princes ever? but I'll write
To Rome.

Guido. I shall expect it.

Duke.

Confide in me.

I thought I had a word or two to say,

But they are gone;-the common things, perhaps,
Men say at parting: likely nothing more.

You may return: if not, why let us part

Review of Juvenile Poems, &c.

Like friends at least: hate is a galling load
To bear in absence: so-farewell.

And now, no more.

Farewell!

Guido. Once more, farewell,

'Duke.

Farewell!

Oh! Guido!

[Embraces him.

[Exit.

Farewell! the kindest breath of Heaven
Rest on your head and hallow it. My son !
My only son! and is he gone for ever?
How I have loved him let these tremulous hands
Proclaim, and these my weeping woman's eyes,
Not often stained with tears.- Farewell, once more.
Son of my youth! And now I'll take one look
At the blue sky, and taste the sweets which hang
Around the flowers.-Methinks I feel again
My stature princely, and still running clear
The high blood of Mirandola.

[Exit.

"Juvenile Poems, with Translations from the Polish Poet, Casimir.
By an Under-Graduate, T.C.D.-Dublin, R. Milliken. 1821.

We

Publications like the present are always grateful to us, for they are an evidence that there yet exists a spirit amongst us that lays its offerings on the shrine of its native country, while they present a hope that this spirit may be supported and cheered by those to whom it looks for assistance. should be glad that the Dublin Press should come oftener under our notice, and we regret that it so seldom gives birth to works of fancy, those with which it generally teems being political or religious disputations, which confer little credit on the literary acquirements or good sense of the writers.

The Poems now before us possess merit. They are few in number, and the subjects for the most part are of an interesting character. The "lines on a wounded Bear" are animated and pleasing. We do not, however, approve of the thought contained in the Verses "To a Violet on the grave of a friend." The design of the Stanzas on "a Mouse," &c. is good, and reminds us of Horace's first Ode, which pursues by the same images a different idea. Of the original poems, the "Lake of Corrisken," and "Gualca," are the happiest.

Of the translations, which are four in number, we have but to observe that the second and third are well executed, but the first betrays a little stiffness of mauner. The second

Review of the Village of Mariendorpt.

"to the Rose on Lady-day," recalled to our recollection a translation of Casimir's Ode, beginning

Child of Summer, charming Rose! &c.

which we think we met in "Hervey's Meditations,"-but the present we consider superior. The last of them we transcribe

When storms on storms convulsive,
Shall tempest fortune's shrine,

My heart shall beat responsive,
My bosom friend to thine.

which we regret he considered worthy of concluding the volume. The word "tempest" in the second line is used as a verb: the innovations of the present day are spreading fast over the empire of taste. Lord Byron makes a substantive of "imagining," and the author of "Select Airs" has (we suppose in imitation) taken the same liberty with "hoping" and "regretting!"

The Village of Mariendorpt, a Tale, in 4 vols. by Miss Anna Maria Porter, Author of the Fast of St. Magdalen, Knight of St. John, &c.

1821-London,-Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme and Brown.

The events of this tale are supposed to have happened in the early years of the seventeenth century; and in fixing on this troublesome period, we think Miss A. M. Porter has made a judicious choice. The revolutions which arise from a religious principle are accompanied by circumstances which can seldom be parallelled in any more abstractedly political warfare; the mixture of religion and policy allows the hypocrite more effectually to mask his crimes, and a husband, in furtherance of his ambitious views, might desert his wife, if that desertion was sanctioned by the permission and will of his prince and the regulations of his church. Her choice of ground must also meet our approval.-No theatre, perhaps, would admit more variety of scenery, or greater change of situation, without breach of probability, than the extensive countries contained under the general appellation of Germany: its distant and independent provinces, connected by a common language which varies only in the peculiarities of dialect, may allow the hero or heroine of a tale to travel from Bohemia to Holland, and from Holland to Pomerania,

Review of the Village of Mariendorpt.

without the usually supposed acquaintance with every living language of the earth; and hence our credulity is not shocked in this, as in many other novels, by the long journies of its personages, or by the ease with which the inhabitant of one country can address the exile from another. The details of warfare which are mingled through the more immediate incidents of the tale, are rendered interesting from the characters of the combatants, and few readers can peruse without pleasure the circumstances which first called into action the energies of Turenne, and Montecuculi. The connection of the principal persons of the tale with the military transactions of the day, very materially assists the unravelling of the plot, and throws an air of probability over rencontres which could otherwise have never occurred.

With respect to the more particular management of the tale, we will offer a few observations which may be best prefaced by the following brief outline of its fable.

Frederic V. Elector Palatine, who married Elizabeth, the only daughter of James 1. of England, had in an ambitious moment, without consulting his father-in-law, or Prince Maurice, his uncle, accepted the throne of Bohemia from its Protestant inhabitants, who had risen in defence of their religion against Ferdinand the emperor of Germany. Instead, however, of answering his own or the expectations of his voluntary subjects, his acceptance of the sovereignty only served to involve him and his family in destruction, and eventually alienated from the latter years of James's life the affections of the English.* Misfortunes crowded on the unfortunate and misguided Elector; and his troops having been completely routed in 1619, at the decisive battle of Prague, he immediately fled to Holland. During the pillage which succeeded the battle, Henrietta Stalzenberg, a Protestant orphan of good family and extensive possessions in Bohemia, was protected from the insults of some Austrian soldiers by Roselheim, a young officer in the same service, of

• History informs us of the vain and pusillanimous efforts of James in behalf of his son-in-law. In speaking of his conduct on this occasion, Hume mentions the following circumstances:-" In a farce, acted at Brussels, a courier was introduced carrying the doleful news that the Palatinate would soon be wrested from the house of Austria, so powerful were the succours which from all quarters were hastening to the relief of the despoiled elector; the king of Denmark had agreed to contribute to his assistance a hundred thousand pickled herrings, the Dutch a hundred thousand butter-boxes, and the king of England a hundred thousand ambassadors. On other occasions he was painted with a scabbard, but without a sword; or with a sword which nobody could draw, though several were pulling at it."-ED.

Review of the Village of Mariendorpt.

great beauty and bravery. The gratitude of the young lady induced her to receive his proposals with favor, and the youthful pair were united, and lived together for some time with as much happiness as his military duties would permit. Their affection was crowned by the birth of three children, of whom only one survived the period of infancy, named Rupert. But though the gallantry of Roselheim had gained for him the favor of the elector of Bavaria, yet his marriage to a Protestant impeded his rise, and was alleged as the cause of his exclusion from many personal honors to which his services had entitled him. His ruling passion was ambition; and in the course of his many journies, undertaken in a political or military capacity, his fine person attracted the admiration of the potent widow of Prince Mathias of * * *. His pretended love for his wife yielded to the temptation; "the political events of those times unhappily offered Roselheim an opportunity of gratifying at once his ambition and the illustrious widow's lawless passion;" and ten years after the date of her marriage, Henrietta was thunderstruck at the receipt of an order from the emperor to renounce either her religion, or her husband, son and property,-while almost in the same hour she received a corresponding command from Roselheim.

As soon as her health would permit, she retired to Holland, accepted the friendly offers of a relative, Falkenberg, an officer in the Swedish service, and accompanied him to Magdeburg, a city then threatened by the imperialists, of which he was appointed commandant. She there, a second time, met Muhldenau, a Protestant clergyman, who had been tutor to the elector's son, and by a concurrence of circumstances was obliged to take refuge in the town with two infant children, Frederica and Meeta. Magdeburg fell, and Muhldenau lost Frederica in the confusion; but after searching for her every where in vain, he escaped with Madame Roselheim and Meeta to Mariendorpt, a Dutch village of which he had been made rector. Madame Roselheim's protector, Falkenberg, had perished in the ruins of Magdeburg, and she afterwards went to Ebrenfels to take care of her wounded brother-in-law, Colonel Melchior Roselheim, a Protestant, who had espoused the side of his religion.

In the meanwhile, Rupert Roselheim, her son, who had been taken from her by her husband, was educated in a convent; and when he had attained the age of sixteen was sum▾ moned at the suggestion of his haughty step-mother to attend

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