I felt those unseen eyes were fixed on mine, Forgotten thoughts of evil, still-born mischiefs, To bide the eternal summons I am not what I was since I beheld him- Enter two of his band observing him. First Robber. Seest thou with what a step of pride he stalks? Thou hast the dark knight of the forest seen; That brightness all around thee, that appeared In the same year with Mr Sheil's 'Evadne' (1820) appeared Brutus, or the Fall of Tarquin, a historical tragedy, by JOHN HOWARD PAYNE. There is no originality or genius displayed in this drama; but, when well acted, it is highly effective on the stage. In 1821 MR PROCTER'S tragedy of Mirandola was brought out at Covent Garden, and had a short but enthusiastic run of success. The plot is painful (including the death, through unjust suspicions, of a prince sentenced by his father), and there is a want of dramatic movement in the play; but some of the passages are imbued with poetical feeling and vigorous expression. The doting affection of Mirandola, the duke, has something of the warmth and the rich diction of the old dramatists. Duke. My own sweet love! Oh! my dear peerless By the blue sky and all its crowding stars, First Robber. Mock me not thus. Hast met him of a truth? RICHARD L. SHEIL-J. H. PAYNE-B. W. PROCTER- Another Irish poet, and man of warm imagination, is RICHARD LALOR SHEIL. His plays, Evadne and The Apostate, were performed with much success, partly owing to the admirable acting of Miss O'Neil. The interest of Mr Sheil's dramas is concentrated too exclusively on the heroine of each, and there is a want of action and animated dialogue; but they abound in impressive and well-managed scenes. The plot of Evadne' is taken from Shirley's Traitor, as are also some of the sentiments. The following description of female beauty is very finely expressed : But you do not look altered-would you did! Woman was ever loved. There's not an hour Duke. We'll ride together, dearest, [Exit. Isid. Just as you please; farewell. [LORENZO and his friend JULIO.] Of dying; but pity bids me live! Never again: even at my bridal hour Thou sawest detection, like a witch, look on And smile, and mock at the solemnity, Conjuring the stars. Hark! was not that a noise? Lor. Have none approached us? Jul. None. Lor. Then 'twas my fancy. Every passing hour Jul. The shadows of our sleep should fly with sleep; Nor hang their sickness on the memory. Lor. Methought the dead man, rising from his tomb, To clasp my wife; but she was pale, and cold, JAMES SHERIDAN KNOWLES. The most successful of modern tragic dramatists is MR JAMES SHERIDAN KNOWLES, whose plays W. Knowles have recently been collected and republished in three volumes. His first appeared in 1820, and is founded on that striking incident in Roman story, the death of a maiden by the hand of her father, Virginius, to save her from the lust and tyranny of Appius. Mr Knowles's Virginius had an extraordinary run of success. He has since published The Wife, a Tale of Mantua, The Hunchback, Caius Gracchus, The Blind Beggar of Bethnal Green, William Tell, The Love Chace, &c. With considerable knowledge of stage effect, Mr Knowles unites a lively inventive imagination and a poetical colouring, which, if at times too florid and gaudy, sets off his familiar images and illustrations. His style is formed on that of Massinger and the other elder dramatists, carried often to a ridiculous excess. He also frequently violates Roman history and classical propriety, and runs into conceits and affected metaphors. These faults are counterbalanced by a happy art of constructing scenes and plots, romantic, yet not too improbable, by skilful delineation of character, especially in domestic life, and by a current of poetry which sparkles through his plays, 'not with a dazzling lustre-not with a gorgeousness that engrosses our attention, but mildly and agreeably; seldom impeding with useless glitter the progress and development of incident and character, but mingling itself with them, and raising them pleasantly above the prosaic level of common life."* [Scene from Virginius."] APPIUS, CLAUDIUS, and LICTORS. Appius. Well, Claudius, are the forces At hand? Claudius. They are, and timely, too; the people Are in unwonted ferment. App. There's something awes me at Upon her, my Appius! Fix your gaze upon Haste! [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. Is silence my opponent? Fit opponent To plead a cause too foul for speech! What brow Shameless gives front to this most valiant cause, That tries its prowess 'gainst the honour of A girl, yet lacks the wit to know, that he Who casts off shame, should likewise cast off fearAnd on the verge o' the combat wants the nerve To stammer forth the signal? App. You had better, Virginius, wear another kind of carriage; This is not of the fashion that will serve you. Vir. The fashion, Appius! Appius Claudius tell me The fashion it becomes a man to speak in, Whose property in his own child-the offspring Of his own body, near to him as is His hand, his arm-yea, nearer-closer far, In such a thing, the very self of himself, App. Stand forth Claudius! If you lay claim to any interest Bring on some other cause. Claud. Most noble Appius Vir. And are you the man That claims my daughter for his slave?-Look at me And I will give her to thee. *Edinburgh Review for 1833. Claud. She is mine, then : Do I not look at you? Vir. Your eye does, truly, But not your soul. I see it through your eye But gives the port of impudence to falsehood Num. Will she swear she is her child? Is she not his slave? Will his tongue lie for him- To ask him if she'll swear! Will she walk or run, In jeopardy by such a bare-faced trick! App. No law in Rome, Virginius, Icilius. Fear not, love; a thousand oaths App. You swear the girl's your child, App. Your answer now, Virginius. [Brings Virginia forward. Is this the daughter of a slave? I know 'Tis not with men as shrubs and trees, that by The shoot you know the rank and order of The stem. Yet who from such a stem would look And sympathetic fount, that at her cry Sent forth a stream of liquid living pearl Women and Citizens. You have, Virginius. App. Silence! Keep silence there! No more of that! You're very ready for a tumult, citizens. [Troops appear behind. Lictors, make way to let these troops advance! We have had a taste of your forbearance, masters, And wish not for another. Vir. Troops in the Forum! App. Virginius, have you spoken? I have; if not, I'll speak again. Virginius; I had evidence to give, Which, should you speak a hundred times again, Would make your pleading vain. Vir. Your hand, Virginia! Stand close to me. [Aside. App. My conscience will not let me Be silent. "Tis notorious to you all, That Claudius' father, at his death, declared me The guardian of his son. This cheat has long Been known to me. I know the girl is not Virginius' daughter. Vir. Join your friends, Icilius, And leave Virginia to my care. App. The justice I should have done my client unrequired, Now cited by him, how shall I refuse? Vir. Don't tremble, girl! don't tremble. App. Virginius, [A side. [Aside. I feel for you; but though you were my father, The tongues that told him she was not my child To the honour of a Roman maid! my child! Tear her from Appius and his Lictors while Citizens. They are yours, Virginius. App. Keep the people back Support my Lictors, soldiers! Seize the girl, Icilius. Down with the slaves! [The people make a show of resistance; but, upon the advance of the soldiers, retreat, and leave ICILIUS, VIRGINIUS, and his daughter, &c. in the hands of APPIUS and his party.] Deserted!-Cowards! traitors! Let me free Vir. Icilius, peace! You see how 'tis, we are deserted, left Alone by our friends, surrounded by our enemies, App. Separate them, Lictors! Vir. Let them forbear awhile, I pray you, Appius: It is not very easy. Though her arms Are tender, yet the hold is strong by which She grasps me, Appius-forcing them will hurt them; They'll soon unclasp themselves. Wait but a little You know you're sure of her! App. I have not time To idle with thee; give her to my Lictors. Vir. Appius, I pray you wait! If she is not A little time for parting. Let me take A moment with her nurse; perhaps she'll give me And knotted round my heart, that, if you break it, App. Have your wish. Be brief! Lictors, look to them. Virginia. Do you go from me? Do you leave? Father! Father! Vir. No, my child No, my Virginia-come along with me. Virginia. Will you not leave me? Will you take me with you? Will you take me home again? O, bless you! bless you! My father! my dear father! Art thou not But I have. App. I hope you are satisfied. I am that she is my daughter! [Virginia shrieks, and falls half-dead upon Vir. Another moment, pray you. Bear with me A little 'Tis my last embrace. 'Twont try Your patience beyond bearing, if you're a man! Lengthen it as I may, I cannot make it Long. My dear child! My dear Virginia! There is one only way to save thine honour-'Tis this. [From The Wife, a Tale of Mantua."] As e'er they were before. How grew it! Come, Which thou dost fear to show-I wait your answer. Mariana. As my stature grew, Which rose without my noting it, until From beneath An avalanche my father rescued him, Who wandered through our mountains. A long time Lorenzo. I perceive: you mingled souls until you mingled hearts! You loved at last. Was't not the sequel, maid? Were to affirm what oft his eyes avouched, Lorenzo. This spoke impediment; or he was bound Mariana. I saw a struggle, But knew not what it was. I wondered still, [Stabs her, and draws out the knife. Icilius breaks from the soldiers that held him, and catches her. Lo, Appius, with this innocent blood I do devote thee to the infernal gods! Make way there! App. Stop him! Seize him! Lorenzo. To follow him You came to Mantua! Mariana. What could I do? To look, perchance, on him! perchance to hear him, THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES.. The Bride's Tragedy, by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES, published in 1822, is intended for the closet rather than the theatre. It possesses many passages of pure and sparkling verse. The following,' says a writer in the Edinburgh Review, will show the way in which Mr Beddoes manages a subject that poets have almost reduced to commonplace. We thought all similes for the violet had been used up; but he gives us a new one, and one that is very delightful.' Hesperus and Floribel (the young wedded lovers) are in a garden; and the husband speaks: Hesperus. See, here's a bower then, Look It is a bunch of flowers I pulled for you: Have they been brushing the long grass aside, Where it shuns light, the Danae of flowers, With gold up-hoarded on its virgin lap? is waiting for him in the Divinity path, alone, and and thus he answers Ay, I am come In all my solemn pomp, Darkness and Fear, Or I must weep. Hesperus. 'Twill serve to fill the goblets Their gory bosoms; they'll look wondrous comely; After some further speech, she asks him what he means, and he replies What mean I? Death and murder, Darkness and misery. To thy prayers and shrift, Earth gives thee back. Thy God hath sent me for thee; Repent and die. She returns gentle answers to him; but in the end he kills her, and afterwards mourns thus over her body : Dead art thou, Floribel; fair, painted earth, Look, what a face! had our first mother worn Floribel. And here's a treasure that I found by His heart, all malice, would have turned to love; chance, A lily of the valley; low it lay Over a mossy mound, withered and weeping, As on a fairy's grave. Hesperus. Of all the posy Give me the rose, though there's a tale of blood 'Tis writ, how Zephyr, envious of his love which is perfectly beautiful. The reader may now take a passage from the scene where Hesperus murders the girl Floribel. She No hand but this, which I do think was once MISS MITFORD-SIR EDWARD LYTTON BULWER- MISS MITFORD, so well known for her fine prose tales and sketches, has written three tragedies-Julian, Rienzi, and The Vespers of Palermo. They were all brought on the stage, but Rienzi' only met with decided success. An equal number of dramas has been produced by another novelist, SIR EDWARD LYTTON BULWER: these are entitled. The Lady of Lyons, La Valliere, and Richelieu. The first of these pieces is the best, and it seldom fails of drawand romantic play, with passages of fine poetry ing tears when well represented. It is a picturesque and genuine feeling. 'La Valliere' is founded on the court and times of Louis XIV., but it wants prominence of character and dramatic art. 'Richelieu' is a drama of greater energy and power, but is also loosely constructed. THOMAS NOON TALFOURD, sergeant-at-law, an eloquent English barrister, has written two classic plays, Ion, and The Athenian |