And Weekly Review; Forming an Analysis and General Repository of Literature, Philosophy, Science, Arts, History, the Drama, Morals, Manners, and Amusements. This paper is published early every Saturday Morning; and is forwarded Weekly, or iu Monthly or Quarterly Parts, throughout the British Dominions. No. 87. LONDON, SATURDAY, JANUARY 13, 1821. Review of New Books. THE NEW TRAGEDY. Mirandola. A Tragedy. By Barry Cornwall. 8vo. pp. 110. London, 1821. er will not, I am sure, infer that I mean to draw any comparison, otherwise than for the mere purpose of stating that a difference actually exists. Isid. Oh! not so. Duke. In faith it has.-Dear girl, I know you hate These empty pageantries. Jove! so do I. The first extract we shall make is part of the third scene in the first act, which breathes of love and tenderness: WE feel peculiar pleasure in commencing the second Number of the third-Why my dear Isidora, yesterday Duke. Forgive me that I thus neglect you, love. Volume of the Literary Chronicle with Has worn you to a shadow, a notice of one of the finest efforts of the tragic muse, that has been produced for many years. The late period at which the play has been published allows us little time for comment, and we have, already, in another part of our Journal, detailed the plot and incidents, and expressed our unqualified approbation. But we must. confess that much as we felt gratified in witnessing the performance of this tragedy, and aware as we were of the many poetic beauties that it possessed, we enjoyed a still higher treat in its perusal. It possesses all the beauties of Mr. Cornwall's style, free from those blemishes with which his former Half of the moon I'd waste in war: the rest Isid. So: not all to love then? Duke. Why, no-yet I am wrong; for oh! with you Who could desert the chamber for the camp? Not I. I would be with you ever ever. Isid. That were too long. Duke. Too long, my Isidora? Price 6d. Duke. Farewell! With what a waving air Along the corridor. How like a fawn; The remaining part of this scene, in which the treacherous monk Gheraldi the Duke, and makes him jealous of pours the subtle poison into the ear of his son, when he hears that he had once loved Isidora, and was now on his way home, is extremely well managed. But we pass on to the third scene of the second act, which is the melancholy and affecting interview between Guido and Isidora: Isid. He comes, he comes; and I must see Oh! that I must-Not yet I must, I must. Will it not burst! My throat is full and choaking. Isid. Ay: Ever' is a long time, my dear God! look upon me now, and save me !-Save! lord: Love has no such eternity. Duke. Indeed! Isid. Indeed, 'tis so: Life even has its end; productions were tinged. The same intease beauty and depth of feeling, And love cannot be longer sure than life. the same good taste and vigour of ex- The declaration of the Duke's affecpression, the same animated descrip- tion for Isidora, though partly anticition and skilful appropriation of ima-pated in our dramatic critique, posgery which distinguishes his Drama-sesses so much force and beauty that tie Scenes' and his Marcian Colonna,' we cannot forbear giving the passage at are exhibited in Mirandola in still length:greater power and perfection. Before we select two or three of the scenes, which, we believe, will fully justify all that we have said, we shall quote the author's advertisement as to the originality of the tragedy. He says, 'The fact of a father having married the lady betrothed to his son, occurred in the case of Philip the Second of Spain and of D'Este, one of the Dukes of Ferrara. This fact I have borrowed, as well as the circumstance of the father condemning his son to death. In other respects, the Tragedy is, as far as I know, original. The character of the sensitive Mirandola, more particularly, is unborrowed. He is unlike Philip and D'Este: and he will be found to differ also from Othello and Polixenes. In mentioning these characters of Shakespeare, the read You Duke. My own sweet love! Oh! my dear peerless wife! By the blue sky and all its crowding stars of day or dreaming night but I am with thee: Woman was ever loved. There's not an hour Some few hours hence. Isid. Just as you please; farewell! [Exit.] He'll come and curse me--and it will be good ; Ha! some one comes. Becomes the Duchess of Mirandola. Isid You have been well, I hope? Guido. Since when? Isid, Since you-- You and I parted. Guido. That's a long time, now. I have forgot how is 't that you remember? Guido. Weep, lady, weep. Tears (yet they're bitter) purify the soul, Isid. Oh! Guido,--cruel, cruel, cruel! Guido. [aside.] By heaven, my courage be- As she wrung mine.---Ah! there she weeps away B2. Isid. Ah!-you spoke?-you spoke? Guido. 'Twas nothing. Isid. Nothing? It was all to me. 'Twas pardon. Oh! my lord, (Guido no more,) Guido. Shall I tell you? Guido. Listen to me, then. When you You are young still, and fair-the more's the But in the time I speak of, you were just Its early beauty: then, your smile was soft, Isid. Indeed, indeed! Guido. Well-There was one who loved you That every hope he had rested on you. Himself before you. You were his home, his His wealth, his light, his mind, and life sub- But then he went away to the fierce wars, Isid. One said he saw you fall. What! does he think to cheat me now, and Shake their black heads and mock me.-Shall I wear His prize abroad so boldly-before me? Isid. He is your father, Guido. Nay Guido. I disown him. He has lost his son. (Young boys and gentle girls) but I abjure Isid. Do not incense him. Isid. The duke. Guido. You're right. Call him no more my father. No; I'll talk But that will be for thy sake, my poor girl! Guido. Oh! not farewell yet. I but go To see the duke. When shall we meet again? Guido. We will, we will, once more. We will (I'm glad of't) say at once good morrow, Without more ceremony. Isid. No; not now, Not now, I cannot bear it.-Nay, for me. [Isid.exit.] Isidora does not, however, meet Guido, but, at the persuasion of Isabella, sends him a ring, a fit and not unfrequent instrument for exciting jealousy. The Duke gives a banquet to celebrate Isab. Nay Duke. Sister, will you drive me mad-out- I am abused-abused, I tell you. Ha! Isab. Retire, sweet Isidora ; And you, dear Guido, bid Gheraldi come. Duke. Just then I had forgiven-almost forgot I could have loved her like a fiery star, I could have bent before her from my path Isab. Dear brother! Duke. Still am I the Duke. Must you too put aside respect? No matter. Gher. Gracious Sir!- O earth and heaven! so fair, so lovely, yet Guido. 'Twas said he died, and that she his son's return; and, after welcoming Those sycophant branches with their bending grieved awhile, In virgin widowed for him. At last, A duke-a reigning duke, with wintry hair, I wrote to you from Naples; from my bed Guido. He was my father's servant. he be Could Unfaithful? No. Isid. Your father priz'd him much. leaves Mock me: they mock my misery-my pain. how my heart aches! him with music, discovers that Isidora Duke. More wine: fill high! Guido. My lord! Hyp. Look at my uncle, mother! Lord. Come forward-How? Isid. My Lord!—Ha! What means this? Duke. Nothing. I am quiet-calm. The heavens are o'er us, and it may be-no- It may be-Ha! begone!-Now, now, for ever Guido. It may be; nay, it is. But, 'ere I Laugh you in scorn upon me? See! it shines I will be righted some way, or revenged. Isab. Brother, be composed. Duke. I cannot.-Will you pour upon my Oblivion, or sweet balm over my heart? Duke. And yet, were it not better, now, Of hell and all its horrors; for this earth, And in the head-the brain, and every nerve, Hush! some one comes. What! shall the Prince be jeered? I'll fly unto some corner, dark as night. [Exit. There is a pretty passage on content in one of the subsequent scenes, part of which has been omitted in the representation. It is the Duke speaking to Isidora, 'Sorrow has past Over us like a storm :-my heart is stilled; Guido promises his father to leave the city and has the assurance of unlimited pecuniary resources; but, in an interview which he has with Isidora previous to his departure, in the garden, at moonlight, they are surprised by the Duke, who has been made acquainted with their intended meeting. The Duke vows revenge, and delivers his son up to the officers in attendance. The catastrophe now fast approaches, and we quote the concluding part of the scene descriptive of it. The officers seize on Guido : Isid. (Shrieks.) Ha!-What's that? Oh! mercy, mercy! Spare him-spare us both, My lord-O husband! Guido. Sweet, implore no more. My fate is come. I'll meet it as a man. Of thee I dare not think: but thou Duke. Speak on! You shall have license,-once-but once. Speak on. Guido. Thou hast abused Tay trust of father, husband, prince. Ind. No, no. Guido. Thou hast, to glut a base and bitter hate, Destroyed thine only son. Angels now look That I am innocent. Remember this. For her who stands palely beside you there, (A star amidst this darkness,) she is pure As heaven. I speak this with a dying tongue. I loved her Duke. Ha! shall this be said? Away, Away, I say!-If once I swear- [Rises.] Guide. One word, Isid. One word!Guido. Poor Isidora! Isid: One Guido. One word's enough. My lord, when To where no matter, mark me. I shall tread With the same step, the same bold, faithful step, Which bore me on, 'midst fire and carnage, when I saved your life at Mantua-Now, lead on! [Guido exit with officers.] Duke. [Sinks down.] He's gone! Isid. A moment stop!-My lord! my lord! Spare him! I'll kneel to you, and wet the dust With tears. Oh! husband: my dear husband! speak! I,-Isidora-Isidora, whom You loved so once, am here-here on my knees, Before the world,-in the broad light. My lord! Give him but time,-a word-do your hear that? A word will clear him. Will you not listen? Oh! Cruel, oh! crual! Mercy, yet ;-oh, God! [Isidora falls before him.] Shall we not help the Piero. [after a pause.] duchess? Curio. Stay, stay: he Begins to move. Casti. You are abused. Duke. I know it. Wretch! Will you bring back my terrors? Silence him. Casti. You and your son are both abused,→ betrayed. You and your innocent wife. Look on the monk. Your son's as fair as heaven. Mark the monk, I say. Here, my lord, here are letters,-scrawls Fashioned in hell, too black for such a place. Here are the letters which you sent to Naples. Look! these your son writ: these-your sister sent. I took them from the monk: he bribed, and prayed, Nay, wept and tore my cloak to get them, but I have them here,-read! read! Duke. Letters! my son! Casti. He met the duchess here by my entreaty : Against his wish he met her: nay Casti. Read, Sir! Isab. Slave! my son Reigns in Mirandola. I am content. [Isabella is taken out.] Duke. Now, where is she?-gone!— Piero. He looks like marble with those fixed 'Tis better. Ah! thou cowled villain,-thou Isab. Ha! go seek him, and confine him: Do this, and you shall thrive. This is unlucky. Gher. 'Tis death. Isab. Not quite so bad. Guido is gone To rest. Gher. How the duke sits! Isab. We'll lead him in. My lord! [Casti enters quickly.] My lord, pray pardon me, but-O my heart! Isab. Slave! dare you think Has tied my heart up; no, no; here, Sir, here. All round my heart, and round my brain,quick, quick I'm burning-Hush! a drug-a- Duke. Some dull-some potent drink. I'll give-I'll give The world away for peace. Oh! round my heart, And-Ah! unloose this cord about my throat. Has no one mercy here? I am the duke,The duke. Ha!-I am-nothing. Casti. Raise his head. Now, my dear lord. Duke. O my poor son! my son! Young victims-both so-young-so innocent. But they are gone. I feel as I could sleepSleep-hush! for ever. My poor son! [Dies.] Memoirs of the Life of Andrew Hofer: containing an Account of the Transactions in the Tyrol during the Year 1809. Taken from the German. By Charles Henry Hall, Esq. 8vo. The His education was superior to that of the generality of people in his station of life; and, from his frequent intercourse with travellers, as well as from the traffic which he carried on in wine and horses, he had acquired a competent knowledge of the Italian language, which he spoke fluently, but in the Venetian dialect; he was popular through the whole country for his integrity, his unaffected religion, his attachment to ancient customs, and his dislike of all innovation. dinary walk his knees were bent, but his old times of the Tyrol-an enthusiastic pp. 198. London, 1820. Of the early life of Andrew Hofer we learn nothing more than that he was born on the 22d of November, 1767, at the village of St. Leonhard, in the valley of Passeyr, and that his father kept an inn, as his ancestors had done from time immemorial : Hofer was in his forty-seventh year when the insurrection first broke out in the Tyrol; he was of Herculean make, with black eyes and brown hair; he stooped considerably, having been accustomed from his youth to carry heavy burthens over the mountains; in his or was addressed by him to the inhabitants of the Upper Innthal :— "Dear Brethren of the Upper Innthal.-For God, the emperor, and our dear native country. To-morrow, early in the morning, is fixed for the attack. With the help of our Holy Mother, we will seize and destroy the Bavarians, and we confide ourselves to the beloved Jesus. Come to our assistance, but if you fancy yourselves wiser than Divine Providence, we will do without you. "ANDREW HOFER."' The appointment of Hofer to be Commander-in-Chief is thurs noticed: Church, at the foot of the tomb of 'Hofer himself shortly appeared amongst them [the Tyrolese], and declared that he was willing to accept the ofed for his head. fice of commander-in-chief, if they wished to confer it on him, but if they preferred The sudden disappearance of Hofer, Leiningen, he was prepared to draw his in the mean time, had given rise to innusword as simple commandant of the Pas- merable contradictory rumours and conseyr Valley; but that, in whatever situa-jectures. Many believed that he had tion it pleased God to place him, he followed the example of Speckbacher and would sacrifice his life for the cause in his companions, and escaped over the which he was engaged, and that he was mountains into Austria, and they expect confident the Emperor of Austria would ed to hear intelligence of him soon from not desert them, but return, as soon as he that quarter; others were persuaded that was able, to their assistance. This de- he had actually been seen at Vienna; and claration was received with shouts of ap- some few rightly conjectured that he was probation, and Hofer from that moment concealed in the Tyrol. The place of his became Commander-in-Chief of the Tyro concealment, in which he remained from the end of Nov. to the end of the month of January following, was a solitary Alpine hut, four long leagues distant from his own house, at times inaccessible from the snow which surrounded it; a few faithful adherents supplied him from time to time with the food that was necessarily for himself and his family, and more than once he was visited by confidential messengers from the Emperor of Austria, who used every entreaty to make him quit his abode and follow them to Austria, assuring him, at the same time, a safe conduct lese. His first care was to organize a fresh force, sufficient to defend his country, and in a short time hundreds of pea sants flocked to his standard, partly from a sort of confidence they had in his powers, and partly from the hope that the discipline of his army would be less strict than that which had hitherto been so irksome to them, so that he found himself at the head of a formidable body of men, all prepared to follow him and sacrifice their lives in his service.' midnight, over ice and snow, and at five o'clock in the morning, of the 20th of January, Hofer and his family were made prisoners. It was dark when the French heard the officer inquire for him, he came approached the hut, but as soon as he intrepidly forward and submitted to be bound. 'He was then marched, together with his wife, his daughter, and his son, who was twelve years old, through Meran to Botzen, amidst the shouts of the French soldiery, and the tears of his countrymen. At Botzen he met with kinder treatment; Baraguay d'Hilliers gave orders that he should be removed to a more commodi- also did all in their power to alleviate the miserable retreat, and his coarse food, his From his long confinement in his hair had become more grey; but his spiappearance was much altered, and his rit was as untamed as ever, and his counsurrounded him, preserved to the last the tenance, in the midst of the gloom which same expression of cheerfulness and sesentence which was passed upon him, but renity. He did not, however, expect the continued to hope that his innocence and the justice of his cause would protect him. courage to vote for his entire deliverance; question, by decreeing death within but a telegraph from Milan decided the twenty-four hours, thus putting it out of the power of Austria to render him any assistance. 'On his arrival at Mantua, a court-martial was immediately holden for the purThis would have been very well, if through the enemy's army. But Hofer pose of trying him, of which General Bisson, then governor, was appointed presithe author had not accompanied the steadily refused all their offers, and ex-dent; on comparing the votes, a great passage with the following malicious pressed his determination never to aban- difference of opinion was found to prevail note. Speaking of Hofer, he says, adhered tenaciously to all his old attach-jority were for confinement; two had the don either his country or his family. He as to the nature of his sentence; the ma'His vanity, on this occasion, carried ments and habits, and even resisted the him so far that he is said to have caus- urgent entreaties of his friends, who ened his initials to be stamped on a new deavoured to persuade him to cut off his coin.' The author ought either to beard, from an apprehension that it would have known the truth, which he might lead to a discovery of his person. At length, easily have done, or not have made the the traitor Donay, once his intimate assertion. The remaining notices of Ho-friend, allured by the flattering promises fer are very scanty, but such as they are we collect them. When summoned by the Duke of Dantzig to appear at Innspruck, he replied, he would come, accompanied by 10,000 sharpshooters,' a retinue with which the duke would, no doubt, gladly dispense. Three times Hofer delivered his country from the Bavarians, and a grand festival was held at Innspruck in honour of him. He was that day formally invested with a medal, sent to him by the Emperor, in the great who had been entrusted with the secret, The column began their march at 'Berthier, who was then at Vienna, excritical manner in which he affected to cited universal indignation by the hypopity him; he ventured even to affirm that it would cause great pain to Napoleon, who would never have permitted such a proceeding had he been aware of it. Hofer received his sentence of death with the same unshaken firmness that had marked his character throughout, and requested him, which was immediately complied that a priest might be allowed to attend with. To this priest, (Manifesti,) who never quitted him till the moment of hi death, he delivered his last adieu to his family, conversed with him of the Tyros |