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I felt those unseen eyes were fixed on mine,
That brightness all around thee, that appeared If eyes indeed were there
An emanation of the soul, that loved Forgotten thoughts of evil, still-born mischiefs,
To adorn its habitation with itself, Foul fertile seeds of passion and of crime,
And in thy body was like light, that looks That withered in my heart's abortive core,
More beautiful in the reflecting cloud Roused their dark battle at his trumpet-peal:
It lives in, in the evening. Oh, Evadne, So sweeps the tempest o'er the slumbering desert, Thou art not altered—would thou wert ! Waking its myriad hosts of burning death : So calls the last dread peal the wandering atoms In the same year with Mr Sheil's 'Evadne' (1820) Of blood, and bone, and flesh, and dust-worn fragments, appeared Brutús, or the Fall of Tarquin, a historical In dire array of ghastly unity,
tragedy, by JOHN HOWARD PAYNE. There is no To bide the eternal summons
originality or genius displayed in this drama; but, I am not what I was since I beheld him
when well acted, it is highly effective on the stage. I was the slave of passion's ebbing sway
In 1821 MR PROCTER's tragedy of Mirandola All is condensed, collected, callous, now
was brought out at Covent Garden, and had a short The groan, the burst, the fiery flash is o'er,
but enthusiastic run of success. The plot is painful Down pours the dense and darkening lava-tide,
(including the death, through unjust suspicions, of Arresting life, and stilling all beneath it.
a prince sentenced by his father), and there is a Enter two of his band observing him.
want of dramatic movement in the play ; but some
of the passages are imbued with poetical feeling and Pirst Robber. Seest thou with what a step of pride vigorous expression. The doting affection of Miranhe stalks ?
dola, the duke, has something of the warmth and the Thou hast the dark knight of the forest seen ;
rich diction of the old dramatists. For never man, from living converse come, Trod with such step or flashed with eye like thine.
Duke. My own sweet love! Oh! my dear peerless Second Robber. And hast thou of a truth seen the
wife! dark knight Bertram. [Turning on him suddenly.] Thy hand is By the blue sky and
all its crowding stars, chilled with fear. Well, shivering craven,
I love you better-oh! far better than
Woman was ever loved. There's not an hour Say I have seen him—wherefore dost thou gaze ?
Of day or dreaming night but I am with thee: Long'st thou for tale of goblin-guarded portal ? There's not a wind but whispers of thy name, Of giant champion, whose spell-forged mail
And not a flower that sleeps beneath the moon Crumbled to dust at sound of magic horn
But in its hues or fragrance tells a tale Banner of sheeted flame, whose foldings shrunk
Of thee, my love, to thy Mirandola. To withering weeds, that o'er the battlements
Speak, dearest Isidora, can you love Ware to the broken spell-or demon-blast
As I do? Can—but no, no; I shall grow Of winded clarion, whose fell summons sinks
Foolish if thus I talk. You must be gone; To lonely whisper of the shuddering breeze
You must be gone, fair Isidora, else O'er the charmed towers
The business of the dukedoni soon will cease.
Gheraldi waits without (or should) to see me.
Isid. Farewell, my lord. you.
Duke. We'll ride together, dearest, Upon this hour we part-farewell for ever.
Some few hours hence. For mortal cause I bear a mortal weapon
Isid. Just as you please ; farewell. [Exil But man that leagues with demons lacks not man.
Duko. Farewell; with what a waving air she goes
Along the corridor. How like a fawn;
Yet statelier.-Hark! no sound, however soft
But every motion of her shape doth seem
About the same time Conscience, or the Bridal centrated too exclusively on the heroine of each, Night, by MR JAMES HAYNES, was performed, and and there is a want of action and animated dialogue; afterwards published. The hero is a ruined Venebut they abound in impressive and well-managed tian, and his bride the daughter of liis deadliest scenes. The plot of 'Evadne’ is taken from Shir. enemy, and the niece of one to whose death he had ley's Traitor, as are also some of the sentiments. been a party. The stings of conscience, and the The following description of female beauty is very fears accompanying the bridal night, are thus definely expressed :
scribed :But you do not look altered-would you did !
[LORENZO and his friend JULIO.]
I had thoughts
Never again : even at my bridal hour
Thou sawest detection, like a witch, look on They are so innocent. Ah, thou art still
And smile, and mock at the solemnity,
Jul. No; all is still.
on that striking incident in Roman story, the death Lor. Then 'twas my fancy. Every passing hour of a maiden by the hand of her father, Virginius, te Is crowded with a thousand whisperers ;
save her from the lust and tyranny of Appius. Dr The night has lost its silence, and the stars
Knowles's Virginius had an extraordinary run of Shoot fire upon my soul. Darkness itself
He has since published The Wife, a Tale of Has objects for mine eyes to gaze upon,
Mantua, The Hunchback, Caius Gracchus, The Bled And sends me terror when I pray for sleep
Beggar of Bethnal Green, William Tell, The Lox In vain upon my knees. Nor ends it here;
Chace, &c. With considerable knowledge of stage My greatest dread of all-detection-casts
effect, Mr Knowles unites a lively inventive imagiHer shadow on my walk, and startles me
nation and a poetical colouring, which, if at times At every turn: sometime will reason drag
too florid and gaudy, sets off his familiar images and Her frightful chain of probable alarms
illustrations. His style is formed on that of MasAcross my mind; or, if fatigued, she droops, singer and the other elder dramatists, carried often Her pangs survive the while; as you have seen
to a ridiculous excess. He also frequently violates The ocean tossing when the wind is down,
Roman history and classical propriety, and runs into And the huge storm is dying on the waters.
conceits and affected metaphors. These faults are Once, too, I had a dreamJul. The shadows of our sleep should fly with sleep; scenes and plots, romantic, yet not too improbable,
counterbalanced by a happy art of constructing Nor hang their sickness on the memory.
by skilful delineation of character, especially in doLor. Methought the dead man, rising from his tomb, mestic life, and by a current of poetry which sparkles Frowned over me. Elmira at my side, Stretched her fond arms to shield me from his wrath, with a gorgeousness that engrosses our attention,
through his plays, 'not with a dazzling lustre-not At which he frowned the more. I turned away,
but mildly and agreeably; seldom impeding with Disgusted, from the spectre, and assayed
useless glitter the progress and development of inciTo clasp my wife; but she was pale, and cold,
dent and character, but mingling itself with them, And in her breast the heart was motionless, And on her limbs the clothing of the grave,
and raising them pleasantly above the prosaic lere
of common life.'* With here and there a worm,
hung heavily. Then did the spectre laugh, till from its mouth Blood dropped upon us while it cried— Behold!
[Scene from Virginius.'] Such is the bridal bed that waits thy lore!'
Apprus, CLAUDIUS, and LICTORS. I would have etruck it (for my rage was up);
Appius. Well, Claudius, are the forces I tried the blow; but, all my senses shaken
At hand? By the convulsion, broke the tranced spell,
Claudius. They are, and timely, too; the people And darkness told me—sleep was my tormentor. Are in unwonted ferment.
App. There's something awes me at
The thought of looking on her father!
Till they are thine. Haste! Your tribunal!
[Appius ascends the tribunal. [Enter NUMITORIUS, Icilius, Lucius, CITIZENS, VIRGINIUS leading his daughter, SERVIA, and CITIZENS. A dead silence prevails.)
Virginius. Does no one speak? I am defendant here.
App. You had better,
Vir. The fashion, Appius! Appius Claudius tell me
App. Stand forth
Claud. Most noble Appius
Vir. And are you the man
That claims any daughter for his slave-Look at me have recently been collected and republished in three And I will give her to thee. volumes. His first appeared in 1820, and is founded
* Edinburgh Review for 18m2
Claud. She is mine, then:
Sent forth a stream of liquid living pearl Do I not look at you !
To cherish her enamelled veins. The lie Vir. Your eye does, truly,
Is most unfruitful then, that takes the flower But not your soul. I see it through your eye The very flower our bed connubial grewShifting and shrinking-turning every way
To prove its barrenness! Speak for me, friends ; To shun me. You surprise me, that your eye, Have I not spoke the truth? So long the bully of its master, knows not
Women and Citizens. You have, Virginius. To put a proper face upon a lie,
App. Silence! Keep silence there! No more of But gives the port of impudence to falsehood
that! When it would pass it off' for truth. Your soul You're very ready for a tumult, citizens. Dares as soon show its face to me.
[Troops appear behint. I had forgot; the fashion of my speech
Lictors, make way to let these troops advance ! May not please Appius Claudius.
We have bad a taste of your forbearance, masters, Claud. I demand
And wish not for another. Protection of the Decemvir!
Vir. Troops in the Forum ! App. You shall have it.
App. Virginius, have you spoken?
Vir. If you have heard me,
Virginius; I had evidence to give,
[Virginius, stepping forward, is withheld by Vir. Your hand, Virginia!
(A side. Numitorius. Hold, brother! Hear them out, or App. My conscience will not let me suffer me
Be silent. "Tis notorious to you all, To speak.
That Claudius' father, at his death, declared me Vir. Man, I must speak, or else go mad!
The guardian of his son. This cheat has long And if I do go mad, what then will hold me
Been known to me. I know the girl is not From speaking! She was thy sister, too!
Virginius' daughter. Well, well, speak thou. I'll try, and if I can,
Vir. Join your friends, Icilius, Be silent. (Retires. And leave Virginia to my care.
[A side. Num. Will she swear she is her child !
App. The justice Vir. (Starting forward.] To be sure she will-a' I should have done my client unrequired, most wise question that!
Now cited by him, how shall I refuse? Is she not his slaveWill his tongue lie for him- Vir. Don't tremble, girl! don't tremble. [Aside. Or his hand steal-or the finger of his hand
I feel for you ; but though you were my father,
Claudius must take Virginia home with him!
Vir. And if he must, I should advise him, Appius, What mockery it is to have one's life
To take her home in time, before his guardian In jeopardy by such a bare-faced trick!
Complete the violation which his eyes Is it to be endured? I do protest
Already have begun.-Friends! fellow citizens! Against her oath!
Look not on Claudius-look on your Decemvir! App. No law in Rome, Virginius,
He is the master claims Virginia! Seconds you. If she swear the girl's her child, The tongues that told him she was not my child The evidence is good, unless confronted
Are these--the costly charms he cannot purchase, By better evidence. Look you to that,
Except by making her the slave of Claudius, Virginius. I shall take the woman's oath.
His client, his purveyor, that caters for Virginia. Icilius!
His pleasures-markets for him-picks, and scents, Iciliw. Fear not, love; a thousand oaths
And tastes, that he may banquet-serves him up Will answer her.
His sensual feast, and is not now ashamed, App. You swear the girl's your child,
In the open, common street, before your eyes And that you sold her to Virginius' wife,
Frighting your daughters' and your matrons' cheeks W'ho passed her for her own. Is that your oath ? With blushes they ne'er thought to meet-to help Slare. It is my oath.
him App. Your answer now, Virginius.
To the honour of a Roman maid! my child !
This second Tarquin had already coiled 'Tis not with men as shrubs and trees, that by His arms around her. Look upon her, Romans ! The shoot you know the rank and order of
Befriend her! succour her! see her not polluted The stem. Yet who from such a stem would look Before her father's eyes !-He is but one. For such a shoot. My witnesses are these
Tear her from Appius and his Lictors while The relatives and friends of Numitoria,
She is unstained.—Your hands! your hands! your Who saw her, cre Virginia's birth, sustain
hands! The burden which a mother bears, nor feels
Citizens. They are yours, Virginius. The weight, with longing for the sight of it.
App. Keep the people backHere are the ears that listened to her sighs
Support my Lictors, soldiers! Seize the girl, In nature's hour of labour, which subsides
And drive the people back. In the embrace of joy--the hands, that when
Icilius. Down with the slaves! The day first looked upon the infant's face,
[The people make a show of resistance; but, upon the ad. And never looked so pleased, helped them up to it, vance of the soldiers, retreat, and leave Icilius, Viro And blessed her for a blessing. Here, the eyes
GINTUS, and his daughter, &c. in the hands of Appius and That saw her lying at the generous
his party.) And sympathetic fount, that at her cry
Deserted Cowards! traitors! Let me free
But for a moment! I relied on you;
Vir. If they dare Had I relied upon myself alone,
To tempt the desperate weapon that is maddened I had kept them still at bay! I kneel to you- With drinking my daughter's blood, why, let there: Let me but loose a moment, if 'tis only
thus To rush upon your swords.
It rushes in amongst them. Way there! Way! Vir. Icilius, peace!
[Exit through the soldiers. You see how 'tis, we are deserted, left Alone by our friends, surrounded by our enemies, Nerveless and helpless.
(From The Wife, a Tale of Mantua.') App. Separate ihem, Lictors!
LORENZO, an Advocate of Rome, and MARIANA. Vir. Let them förbear awhile, I pray you, Appius : Lorenzo. That's right-you are collected and direct It is not very easy. Though her arms
In your replies. I dare be sworn your passion Are tender, yet the hold is strong by which
Was such a thing, as, by its neighbourhood, She grasps me, Appius-forcing them will hurt them; Made piety and virtue twice as rich They'll soon unclasp themselves. Wait but a little As e'er they were before. How grew it ! Come, You know you're sure of her !
Thou know'st thy heart—look calmly into it, App. I have not time
And see how innocent a thing it is To idle with thee; give her to my Lictors.
Which thou dost fear to show-I wait your answer. Vir. Appius, I pray you wait! If she is not Ilow grew your passion ? My child, she hath been like a child to me
Mariana. As my stature grew, For fifteen years. If I am not her father,
Which rose without my noting it, until I have been like a father to her, Appius,
They said I was a woman. I kept watch For even such a time. They that have lived
Beside what seemed his deathbed. From beneath So long a time together, in so near
An avalanche my father rescued him, And dear society, may be allowed
The sole survivor of a company A little time for parting. Let me take
Who wandered through our mountains. A long time The maid aside, I pray you, and confer
His life was doubtful, siynor, and he called
Morning and night, invoked along with him ;
Lorenzo. I perceive: you mingled souls until you App. Have your wish. Be brief !
mingled hearts ? Lictors, look to them.
You lored at last. Was't not the sequel, maid! Virginia. Do you go from me?
Mariana. I loved, indeed! If I but nursed a flower Do you leave? Father! Father!
Which to the ground the rain and wind had beaten, Vir. No, my child
That flower of all our garden was my pride : No, my Virginia--come along with me.
What then was he to me, for whom I thought Virginia. Will you not leave me? Will you take To make a shroud, when, tending on him still me with you?
With hope, that, baffled still, did still keep up; Will you take me home again? 0, bless you! bless I saw, at last, the ruddy dawn of health you!
Begin to mantle o'er his pallid form, My father! my dear father! Art thou not
And glow-and glow-till forth at last it burst My father?
Into confirmed, broad, and glorious day!
Lorenzo. You loved, and he did love ! (VIRGINIUS, perfectly at a loss what to do, looks anxiously
Mariana. To say he did, around the Forum; at length his eye falls on a butcher's
Were to affirm what oft his eyes arouched, stall, with a knife upon it.]
What many an action testified-and yet-
App. Keep back the people, soldiers! Let them not 'Twas now abstraction--now a start-anon
[ Virginius secures the knife. As nought remained of life, save lite itself, Well, have you done?
And feeling, thought, and motion, were extinct. Vir. Short time for converse, Appius,
Then all again was action! Disinclined But I have.
To converse, save he held it with himself; App. I hope you are satisfied.
Which oft he did, in moody vein discoursing, Vir. I am
And ever and anon invoking honour, I am-that she is my daughter!
As some high contest there were pending 'twist App. Take her, Lictors!
Himself and him, wherein her aid he needed. .
By promise to another; or had friends
Or 'twixt you lay disparity too wide
Mariana. I saw a struggle,
But knew not what it was. I wondered still,
[Kissing her. That what to me was all content, to him There is one only way to save thine honour- Was all disturbance; but my turn did come. 'Tis this.
At length he talked of leaving us; at length
breaks from the soldiers thui held him, O how my heart did bound! Then first I knew
It had been sinking. Deeper still it sank
When next he fixed to go; and sank it then I do devote thee to the infernal gods !
To bound no more! He went. Make way there!
Lorenzo. To follow him App. Stop him! Seize him!
You came to Mantua?
Mariana. What could I do?
is waiting for him in the Divinity path, alone, and Cot, garden, vineyard, rivulet, and wood,
is terrified. At last he comes; and she sighs outLake, sky, and mountain, went along with him!
Speak ! let me hear thy voice,
Tell me the joyful news !
and thus he answers-I said, 'To Mantua.' I followed him
Ay, I am come To Mantua! to breathe the air he breathed,
In all my solemn pomp, Darkness and Fear, To walk upon the ground he walked upon,
And the great Tempest in his midnight car, To look upon the things he looked upon,
The sword of lightning girt across his thigh, To look, perchance, on him! perchance to hear him,
And the whole demon brood of night, blind Fog To touch him! never to be known to him,
And withering Blight, all these are my retainers ; Till he was told I lived and died his love.
How? not one smile for all this bravery?
Thunder, and tuneful Discord ? Hark, they play.
Well piped, methinks; somewhat too rough, perhapo. The Bride's Tragedy, by Thomas LOVELL BEDDOES, Else I might well be scared. But leave this mirt),
Floribel. I know you practise on my silliness, published in 1822, is intended for the closet rather Or I must weep. than the theatre. It possesses many passages of pure and sparkling verse. • The following,' says a For our carousal ; but we loiter here,
Hesperus. 'Twill serve to fill the goblets writer in the Edinburgh Review, will show the way the bride-maids are without; well-picked, thou'lt say, in which Mr Beddoes manages a subject that poets Wan ghosts of wo-begone, self-slaughterel damsels have almost reduced to commonplace. We thought in their best winding-sheets; start not; I bid them all similes for the violet had been used up; but he
wipe gives us a new one, and one that is very delightful.' Their gory bosoms; they'll look wondrous comely; Hesperus and Floribel (the young
wedded lovers) Our link-boy, Will-o'-the-Wisp, is waiting too are in a garden; and the husband speaks :
To light us to our grave. Hesperus. See, here's a bower
After some further speech, she asks him what he Of eglantine with honeysuckles woven,
means, and he repliesWhere not a spark of prying light creeps in, So closely do the sweets enfold each other.
What mean I! Death and murder, 'Tis twilight's home; come in, my gentle love,
Darkness and misery. To thy prayers and shrift, And talk to me. So ! I've a rival here;
Earth gives thee back. Thy God hath sent me for thee; What's this that sleeps so sweetly on your neck ! Repent and die. Floribel. Jealous so soon, my Hesperus ! Look She returns gentle answers to him; but in the end then,
he kills her, and afterwards mourns thus over her It is a bunch of flowers I pulled for you :
body : Here's the blue violet, like Pandora's eye, When first it darkened with immortal life.
Dead art thou, Floribel ; fair, painted earth, Hesperus. Sweet as thy lips. Fie on those taper Between those ruby lips : no; they have quaffed
And no warm breath shall ever more disport fingers, Hare they been brushing the long grass aside,
Life to the dregs, and found death at the bottom, To drag the daisy from its hiding-place,
The sugar of the draught. All cold and still; Where it shuns light, the Danaë of flowers,
Her very tresses stiffen in the air.
Look, what a face! had our first mother worn With gold up-hoarded on its virgin lap? Floribel. And here's a treasure that I found by His heart, all malice, would have turned to love;
But half such beauty when the serpent came, chance,
No hand but this, which I do think was once
Cain, the arch murderer's, could have acted it.
And I must hide these sweets, not in my bosom ;
In the foul earth. She shudders at my grasp :
Just so she laid her head across my bosom
When first-oh villain! which way lies the grave ? 'Tis writ, how Zephyr, envious of his love (The love he bare to Summer, who since then
THOMAS NOON TALFOURD.
Miss MITFORD, so well known for her fine prose ('Twas said the beauteous bantling was the child tales and sketches, has written three tragediesOf a gay bee, that in his wantonness
Julian, Rienzi, and The Vespers of Palermo. They Toyed with a pea-bud in a lady's garland);
were all brought on the stage, but • Rienzi' only met The felon winds, confederate with him,
with decided success. An equal number of dramas Bound the sweet slumberer with golden chains, has been produced by another novelist, Sir EDWARD Pulled from the wreathed laburnum, and together LYTTON BULWER: these are entitled, The Lady of Deep cast him in the bosom of a rose,
Lyons, La Valliere, and Richelieu. The first of And fed the fettered wretch with dew and air.
these pieces is the best, and it seldom fails of drawAnd there is an expression in the same scene (where and romantic play, with passages of fine poetry
ing tears when well represented. It is a picturesque the author is speaking of sleepers' fancies, &c.)
and genuine feeling. “La Valliere' is founded on While that winged song, the restless nightingale
the court and times of Louis XIV., but it wants proTurns her sad heart to music
minence of character and dramatic art. Richelieu'
is a drama of greater energy and power, but is also which is perfectly beautiful.
loosely constructed. Tuomas Noon TALFOURD, serThe reader may now take a passage from the geant-at-law, an eloquent English barrister, has scene where Hesperus murders the girl Floribel. She written two classic plays, Ion, and The Athenian
MISS MITFORD-SIR EDWARD LYTTON BULWER