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unfaithful profile of one,” who still lives, nobilitate felix, arte clarior, vità colendissimus.

zolnora (speaking of Alvar in the third person). Such was the noble Spaniard's own relation. He told me, too, how in his early youth, And his first travels, 'twas his choice or chance To make long sojourn in sea-wedded Venice; There won the love of that divine old man, Courted by mightiest kings, the famous Titian! Who, like a second and more lovely Nature, By the sweet mystery of lines and colors, Changed the blank canvas to a magic mirror, That made the Absent present; and to Shadows Gave light, depth, substance, bloom, yea, thought and Inotion. He loved the old man, and revered his art: And though of noblest birth and ample fortune, The young enthusiast thought it no scorn But this inalienable ornament, To be his pupil, and with filial zeal By practice to appropriate the sage lessons, Which the gay, smiling old man gladly gave. The Art, he honor'd thus, requited him: And in the following and calamitous years Beguiled the hours of his captivity. ALHADRA. And then he framed this picture? and unaided By arts unlawful, spell, or talisman ALWAR. A potent spell, a mighty talisman The imperishable memory of the deed Sustain'd by love, and grief, and indignation! So vivid were the forms within his brain, His very eyes, when shut, made pictures of them!

Note 2, page 89, col. 1.

The following Scene, as unfit for the stage, was taken from the Tragedy, in the year 1797, and published in the Lyrical Ballads. But this work having been long out of print, I have been advised to reprint it, as a Note to the second Scene of Act the Fourth, p. 89.

Enter TEREsa and SELMA. Terresa.

"Tis said, he spake of you familiarly,
As mine and Alvar's common foster-mother.
SELMA.
Now blessings on the man, whoe'er he be,
That join'd your names with mine! O my sweet Lady,
As often as I think of those dear times,
When you two little ones would stand, at eve,
On each side of my chair, and make me learn
All you had learnt in the day; and how to talk
In gentle phrase; then bid me sing to you—
Tis more like heaven to come, than what has been!
TEResa.
But that entrance, Selma 3
sel, MA.
Can no one hear? It is a perilous tale!
TEREsa.
No one.

*Sir George Beaumont. (Written 1814.)

sel.M.A. My husband's father told it me, Poor old Sesina—angels rest his soul He was a woodman, and could fell and saw With lusty arm. You know that huge round beam Which props the hanging wall of the old chapel? Beneath that tree, while yet it was a tree, He found a baby wrapt in mosses, lined With thistle-beards, and such small locks of wool As hang on brambles. Well, he brought him home, And reared him at the then Lord Valdez' cost. And so the babe grew up a pretty boy, A pretty boy, but most unteachable— He never learnt a prayer, nor told a bead, But knew the names of birds, and mock'd their notes, And whistled, as he were a bird himself: And all the autumn 't was his only play To gather seeds of wild flowers, and to plant them With earth and water on the stumps of trees. A Friar, who gather'd simples in the wood, A gray-hair'd man, he loved this little boy: The boy loved him, and, when the friar taught him, He soon could write with the pen; and from that time Lived chiefly at the Convent or the Castle. So he became a rare and learned youth: But of poor wretch! he read, and read, and read, Till his brain turn'd; and ere his twentieth year He had unlawful thoughts of many things: And though he pray'd, he never loved to pray With holy men, nor in a holy place. But yet his speech, it was so soft and sweet, The late Lord Valdez ne'er was wearied with him. And once, as by the north side of the chapel They stood together, chain'd in deep discourse, The earth heaved under them with such a groan, That the wall totterd, and had well-nigh fallen Right on their heads. My Lord was sorely frighten’d; A fever seized him, and he made confession Of all the heretical and lawless talk Which brought this judgment: so the youth was seized, And cast into that hole. My husband's father Sobb'd like a child—it almost broke his heart: And once as he was working near this dungeon, He heard a voice distinctly; 'twas the youth's, Who sung a doleful song about green fields, How sweet it were on lake or wide savanna To hunt for food, and be a naked man, And wander up and down at liberty. He always doted on the youth, and now His love grew desperate; and defying death, He made that cunning entrance I described, And the young man escaped.

Teres.A. "Tis a sweet tale: Such as would hull a listening child to sleep, His rosy face besoil'd with unwiped tears. And what became of him?

sei, M.A.

He went on shipboard With those bold voyagers who made discovery Of golden lands. Sesima's younger brother Went likewise, and when he return'd to Spain, He told Sesina, that the poor mad youth, Soon after they arrived in that new world, In spite of his dissuasion, seized a boat, And all alone set sail by silent moonlight Up a great river, great as any sea, And ne'er was heard of more: but 'tis supposed, He lived and died among the savage men.

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The form of the following dramatic poem is in humble imitation of the Winter's Tale of Shakspeare, except that I have called the first part a Prelude instead of a first Act, as a somewhat nearer resemblance to the plan of the ancients, of which one specimen is left us in the AEschylian Trilogy of the Agamemnon, the Orestes, and the Eumenides. Though a matter of form merely, yet two plays, on different periods of the same tale, might seem less bold, than an interval of twenty years between the first and second act. This is, however, in mere obedience to custom. The effect does not, in reality, at all depend on the Time of the interval; but on a very dis. ferent principle. There are cases in which an interval of twenty hours between the acts would have a worse effect (i.e. render the imagination less disposed to take the position required) than twenty years in other cases. For the rest, I shall be well content if my readers will take it up, read and judge it, as a Christmas tale.

CHARACTERS.

MEN. EMERICK, usurping King of Illyria. RAAB KiupRIli, an Illyrian Chieftain. CAsimiR, Son of Kiuprili. CHEF RAGozzi, a Military Commander. WOMAN. ZApolyA, Queen of Illyria.

ZAPOLY A.

PART I.

THE PRELUDE, ENTITLED, “THE USURP.
ER'S FORTUNE.”
SCENE i.

Front of the Palace with a magnificent Colomnade. On

one side a military Guard-House. Sentries pacing

backward and forward before the Palace. Chef

RAgozzi, at the door of the Guard-House, as looking

forwards at some object in the distance.

chef RAGozzi.

My eyes deceive me not, it must be he'
Who but our chies, my more than father, who

But Raab Kiuprili moves with such a gait?
Lo! elen this eager and unwonted haste
But agitates, not quells, its majesty.
My patron' my commander! yes, ’tis he'
Call out the guards. The Lord Kiuprili comes.

Drums beat, etc. the Guard turns out. Enter RAAE
KIUPRIll. -
RAAB KIUPRILI (making a signal to stop the drums, etc.)
Silence! enough! This is no time, young friend!
For ceremonious dues. This summoning drum,
Th'air-shattering trumpet, and the horseman's clatter,
Are insults to a dying sovereign's ear.
Soldiers, 'tis well! Retire! your general greets you,
His loyal fellow-warriors. [Guards retire.
Chrer RAGOzzi.
Pardon my surprise.
Thus sudden from the camp, and unattended !
What may these wonders prophesy
RAAB KIUPRILI.
- Tell me first,
How fares the king? His majesty still lives?
Chief RAGOzzi.
We know no otherwise; but Emerick's friends
(And none but they approach him) scoff at hope.
R.A.A.d kiupri Li.
Ragozzi! I have rear'd thee from a child,
And as a child I have rear'd thee. Whence this air
Of mystery That face was wont to open
Clear as the morning to me, showing all things.
Hide nothing from me.
ChEF RAGOzzi.
O most loved, most honor'd,
The mystery that struggles in my looks,
Betray'd my whole tale to thee, if it told thee
That I am ignorant; but fear the worst.
And mystery is contagious. All things here
Are full of motion: and yet all is silent:
And bad men's hopes infect the good with fears.
RAAB KIUPRILI (his hand to his heart).
I have trembling proof within, how true thou speakest
cher r A Gozzi.
That the prince Emerick feasts the soldiery,
Gives splendid arms, pays the commanders' debts,
And (it is whisper'd) by sworn promises
Makes himself debtor—hearing this, thou hast heard
All (Then in a subdued and saddened voice.)
But what my Lord will learn too soon himself.
R.A.An r-i upril.I.
Ha!—Well then, let it come ! Worse scarce can
corne.
This letter, written by the trembling hand
Of royal Andreas, calls me from the camp

To his immediate presence. It appoints me, The Queen, and Emerick, guardians of the realm, And of the royal infant. Day by day, Robb'd of Zapolya's soothing cares, the king Yearns only to behold one precious boon, And with his life breathe forth a father's blessing. CHEF RAGozzi. Remember you, my Lord, that Hebrew leech, Whose face so much distemper'd you? RAAB KIUPRILI. Barzoni I held him for a spy; but the proof failing (More courteously, I own, than pleased myself), I sent him from the camp. Chef RAGOzzi. To him in chief Prince Emerick trusts his royal brother's health. - RAAB Ri Upri Li. Hide nothing, I conjure you! What of him?

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Halt! [Stops him. On pain of death, my Lord! am I commanded To stop all ingress to the palace. RAAB kiuprili. Thou! Chef RAGozzi. No place, no name, no rank excepted— -RAAB KIUPRILI. Thou ! Crief RAGozzi. This life of mine, O take it, Lord Kiuprili! I give it as a weapon to thy hands, Mine own no longer. Guardian of Illyria, Useless to thee, 'tis worthless to myself. Thou art the framer of my nobler being: Nor does there live one virtue in my soul, One honorable hope, but calls thee father. Yet ere thou dost resolve, know that yon palace Is guarded from within, that each access is throng'd by arm'd conspirators, watch'd by ruffians Pamper'd with gifts, and hot upon the spoil Which that false promiser still trails before them. I ask but this one boon—reserve my life Till I can lose it for the realm and thee! RAAB Kiupri Li. My heart is rent asunder. O my country, 0 fallen Illyria! stand I here spell-boundt

Did my King love me? Did I earn his love?
Have we embraced as brothers would embrace?
Was I his arm, his thunder-bolt? And now
Must I, hag-ridden, pant as in a dream?
Or, like an eagle, whose strong wings press up
Against a coiling serpent's solds, can I
Strike but for mockery, and with restless beak
Gore my own breast !—Ragozzi, thou art faithful?
CHEF RAGOzzi.
Here besore Heaven I dedicate my faith
To the royal line of Andreas.

RAAB Riu Prill.
Hark, Ragozzi!
Guilt is a timorous thing ere perpetration:
Despair alone makes wicked men be bold.
Come thou with me! They have heard my voice in
flight,

Have faced round, terror-struck, and fear'd no longer
The whistling javelins of their fell pursuers.
Ha! what is this?

[Black Flag displayed from the Tower of the Pal.

ace : a death-bell tolls, etc.

Vengeance of Heaven! He is dead.

cliff RAGozzi. At length then 'tis announced. Alas! I fear, That these black death-flags are but treason's signals.

RAAt KIUpril1 (looking forwards anriously). A prophecy too soon fulfill'd : See yonder! O rank and ravenous wolves! the death-bell echoes Still in the doleful air—and see : they come.

Chef RAGozzi. Precise and faithful in their villany, Even to the moment, that the master traitor Had preordain'd them. RAAB kiuprili. - Was it over-haste, Or is it scorn, that in this race of treason Their guilt thus drops its mask, and blazons forth Their infamous plot even to an idiot's sense. Chef RAGozzi. Doubtless they deem Heaven too usurp'd! Heaven's justice Bought like themselves! [During this conversation music is heard, at first solemn and funereal, and then changing to spirited and triumphal. Being equal all in crime,

|Do you press on, ye spotted parricides'

For the one sole pre-eminence yet doubtful, The prize of foremost impudence in guilt?

RAAB kits praili. The bad man's cunning still prepares the way For its own outwitting. I applaud, Ragozzi! [Musing to himself—then— Ragozzi! I applaud, In thee, the virtuous hope that dares look onward And keeps the life-spark warm of future action Beneath the cloak of patient sufferance. Act and appear as time and prudence prompt thee; I shall not misconceive the part thou playest. Mine is an easier part—to brave the Usurper. [Enter a procession of EMERIck's Adherents, Nobles, Chieftains, and Soldiers, with Music. They advance toward the front of the Stage, KIUPRILI makes the signal for them to stop—

The Music ceases.

LEADER OF THE PROCESSION. The Lord Kiuprili'—Welcome from the camp.

RAAp RIUPRii.i. Grave magistrates and chieftains of Illyria! In good time come ye hither, if ye come As loyal men with honorable purpose To mourn what can alone be mourn'd; but chiefly To enforce the last commands of royal Andreas, And shield the queen, Zapolya: haply making The mother's joy light up the widow's tears.

LEApper. Our purpose demands speed. Grace our procession; A warrior best will greet a warlike king.

RAAB kits prl Li.

This patent, written by your lauful king
(Lo! his own seal and signature attesting)
Appoints as guardians of his realm and offspring,
The Queen, and the Prince Emerick, and myself.

[Voices of Live King Emericks an Emerick' an

Emerick 1

What means this clamor? Are these madmen's voices?
Or is some knot of riotous slanderers leagued
To infamize the name of the king's brother
With a lie black as Hell? unmanly cruelty,
Ingratitude, and most unnatural treason' [Murmurs.
What mean these murmurs ? Dare then any here
Proclaim Prince Emerick a spotted traitor
One that has taken from you your sworn faith,
And given you in return a Judas' bribe, -
Infamy now, oppression in reversion,
And Heaven's inevitable curse hereafter 1

[Loud murmurs, followed by cries—Emerick! No Baby Prince " No Changelings! Yet bear with me awhile ! Have I for this Bled for your safety, conquer'd for your honor! Was it for this, Illyrians! that I sorded Your thaw-swoln torrents, when the shouldering ice Fought with the foe, and stain'd its jagged points With gore from wounds, I felt not? Did the blast Beat on this body, frost-and-famine-numb'd, Till my hard flesh distinguish'd not itself From the insensate mail, its fellow-warrior? And have I brought home with me Victory, And with her, hand in hand, firm-footed Peace, Her countenance twice lighted up with glory, As if I had charm'd a goddess down from Heaven? But these will flee abhorrent from the throne Of usurpation : [Murmurs increase—and cries of Onward 1 onward Have you then thrown off shame, And shall not a dear friend, a loyal subject, Throw off all fear? I tell ye, the fair trophies. Valiantly wrested from a valiant foe, Love's natural offerings to a rightful king, Will hang as ill on this usurping traitor, This brother-blight, this Emerick, as robes Of gold pluck'd from the images of gods Upon a sacrilegious robber's back.

[During the last four lines, enter Lord Casimir, with expressions of anger and alarm. CAsixmir. Who is this factious insolent, that dares brand The elected King, our chosen Emerick [Starts—then approaching with timid respect. My father!

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LEADER. Ay, King Emerick' Stand back, my Lord! Lead us, or let us pass. soldier. Nay, let the general speak! SOLDIERs. Hear him! Hear him." RAAB Kiu PRILI. Hear me, Assembled lords and warriors of Illyria, Hear, and avenge me! Twice ten years have I Stood in your presence, honor'd by the king, Beloved and trusted. Is there one among you, Accuses Raab Kimprili of a bribe Or one false whisper in his sovereign's ear? Who here dare charge me with an orphan's rights Outfaced, or widow's plea left undefended ? And shall I now be branded by a traitor, A bought bribed wretch, who, being called my son, Doth libel a chaste matron's name, and plant Hensbane and aconite on a mother's grave 7 The underling accomplice of a robber, That from a widow and a widow's offspring Would steal their heritage? To God a rebel, And to the common father of his country A recreant ingrate! CAsimir. Sire' your words grow dangerous. High-flown romantic sancies ill-beseem Your age and wisdom. "Tis a statesman's virtue, To guard his country's safety by what means

It best may be protected—come what will
Of these monks' morals!
RAAB KIUPRILI (aside).
Ha! the elder Brutus
Made his soul iron, though his sons repented.
They boasted not their baseness.
[Starts, and draws his sword.
Infamous changeling !
Recant this instant, and swear loyalty,
And strict obedience to thy sovereign's will;
Or, by the spirit of departed Andreas,
Thou diest—
[Chiefs, etc. rush to interpose; during the tumult
enter EMERick, alarmed.
EME Rick.
Call out the guard ' Ragozzi! seize the assassin.
Kiupril Ha!—[With lowered voice, at the same
time with one hand making signs to the guard
to retire.

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EMERICK. This is my thanks, then, that I have commenced A reign to which the free voice of the nobles Hath call'd me, and the people, by regards Of love and grace to Raab Kiuprili's house? R.A.Ab kits Phill. What right hadst thou, Prince Emerick, to bestow them 1 rvierick. By what right dares Kiuprili question me? RAAB kiuprili. By a right common to all loyal subjects— To me a duty . As the realm's co-regent, Appointed by our sovereign's last free act, Writ by himself— [Grasping the Patent. EMERICK (with a contemptuous sneer). Ay!—Writ in a delirium! RAAB Kiuprili. I likewise ask, by whose authority The access to the sovereign was refused me? EME Rick. By whose authority dared the general leave His camp and army, like a fugitive 1 RAAB Kiu PRill. A fugitive, who, with victory for his comrade, Ran, open-eyed, upon the face of death! A fugitive, with no other fear, than bodements To be belated in a loyal purpose— At the command, Prince! of my king and thine, Hither I came; and now again require Audience of Queen Zapolya; and (the States Forthwith convened) that thou dost show at large, On what ground of defect thou'st dared annul This thy King's last and solemn act—hast dared Ascend the throne, of which the law had named, And conscience should have made thee, a protector.

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EMERICK. A sovereign's ear ill brooks a subject's questioning! Yet for thy past well-doing—and because 'T is hard to erase at once the fond belief Long cherish'd, that Illyria had in thee No dreaming priest's slave, but a Roman lover Of her true weal and freedom—and for this, too, That, hoping to call forth to the broad day-light And fostering breeze of glory, all deservings, I still had placed thee foremost.

RAAB KIUPRILI. Prince' I listen. EMERICr. Unwillingly I tell thee, that Zapolya, Madden'd with grief, her erring hopes proved idle— cast Mir. Sire! speak the whole truth! Say, her frauds detected!

Exterick. According to the sworn attests in council Of her physician RAAB KIUPRILI (aside). Yes! the Jew, Barzoni! EMErick. Under the imminent risk of death she lies, Or irrecoverable loss of reason, If known friend's face or voice renew the frenzy. casimiR (to Kiupril1). Trust me, my Lord! a woman's trick has duped you— Us too—but most of all, the sainted Andreas. Even for his own fair fame, his grace prays hourly For her recovery that (the States convened) She may take counsel of her friends. EMeRick,

Right, Casimir! Receive my pledge, Lord General. It shall stand In her own will to appear and voice her claims; Or (which in truth I hold the wiser course) With all the past pass'd by, as family quarrels, Let the Queen-Dowager, with unblench'd honors, Resume her state, our first Illyrian matron. RAAB kit PRILI.

Prince Emerick! you speak fairly, and your pledge too Is such, as well would suit an honest meaning.

CASIMIR. My Lord! you scarce know half his grace's goodness. The wealthy heiress, high-born fair Sarolta, Bred in the convent of our noble ladies, Her relative, the venerable abbess, Hath, at his grace's urgence, woo'd and won for me.

EMERick. Long may the race, and long may that name flourish, Which your heroic deeds, brave chief, have render'd Dear and illustrious to all true Illyrians!

RAAB Kiuprili (sternly).

The longest line, that ever tracing herald
Or found or feign'd, placed by a beggar's soul,
Hath but a mushroom's date in the comparison:
And with the soul, the conscience is coeval,
Yea, the soul's essence.

EMERICK.

Conscience, good my Lord,

Is but the pulse of reason. Is it conscience,
That a free nation should be handed down,
Like the dull clods beneath our feet, by chance
And the blind law of lineage? That whether infant,

Or man matured, a wise man or an idiot,

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