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Of blood; whose unmov'd stream was never drawn
She is, however, eventually forced to marry Rousard; and on the evening of the ceremony, Borachio, a scoundrel in the employ of D’Amville, disguises himself as a soldier, and announces the death of Charlemont. After describing a battle, he proceeds in these pretty fanciful lines.
“ Walking next day upon the fatal shore,
This is too much for Montferrers, who is taken suddenly ill, and persuaded, by a hypocritical, pretended clergyman, to make a will in favour of his brother D'Amville. The Atheist now determines to consummate the business by a master-piece of policy, and, with the assistance of Borachio, contrives the murder of Montferrers. The thunder roars, and the lightning flashes around them ; but D’Amville, believing in neither good
spirit nor bad, white spirit nor grey, exults amidst the war of elements in the success of his stratagems.
To deceive the relatives of the deceased, he pretends excessive grief; and, to cheat the world, performs a solemn funeral over Montferrers and Charlemont. Meanwhile, the ghost of Montferrers appears to Charlemont in a dream, apprizes him of his father's death, and admonishes him to return to France. Charlemont awakes and endeavours to argue away his fears.
“ Charl. O my affrighted soul! what fearful dream
Why should I think so ?-left I not
Sol. You dream, sir, I saw nothing.
Charl. Tush! These idle dreams
That death ; when he's at Paris, and that blood
An idle apprehension; a vain dream.”
He, however, obeys the admonition, and on arriving at the
“ Casta. O thou that knowest me justly Charlemont's,
A sweet young blossom shak'd before the time.”
The last lines are prettily said—of course the young soldier learns the wrong done to his love. Charlemont's appearance somewhat disconcerts the Atheist: he, however, puts a bold face on the matter, and throws Charlemont into prison for the thousand crowns he had lent him. Castabella solicits the mercy of D’Amville in favour of the prisoner, in terms which would melt any thing that had a heart.
“ Casta. O father! Mercy is an attribute
The sun to water dry and barren grounds."
From prison he is released through the means of Sebastian, the second son of D’Amville. Again foiled, he becomes kind in appearance, but rancorous in purpose, and employs his friend Borachio to shoot Charlemont while in the church-yard.
Borachio misses aim, and falls beneath the sword of his intended victim. On the very day of Castabella's marriage, Rousard, it seems, had been struck with sudden infirmity, and D’Amville, whose hopes of posterity are now becoming fainter, persuades Castabella to walk into the church-yard, where he makes an attempt against her chastity, but his design is frustrated by the appearance of Charlemont, who had put on a disguise he accidentally found, and which gave him the semblance of his father's ghost.“ Misery makes us acquainted with strange bedfellows.” Charlemont and Castabella are found asleep in the church-yard, with each a death’s head for a pillow, by D’Amville, who immediately accuses them of the murder of Borachio, and they are sent to prison. D’Amville now retires to rest, but is alarmed in his sleep by the ghost of Montferrers-he wakes, and soliloquizes on his superior wisdom to the simple honest worshipper of “a fantastic providence, and is exulting over the state of his posterity, when the dead body of Sebastian, who had been slain, is brought in, and he immediately afterwards witnesses the death of his other son Rousard.
The boasted reason of the Atheist gives way before these repeated blows, and he appears before the court, which is about to try Charlemont and Castabella, in a state of frenzy. They are both convicted on their own confession (for Castabella is nobly resolved to share the fate of Charlemont), and offer themselves with alacrity to death. D’Amville, in a fantastic mood, determines, that they shall die by no ignobler hand than his own; but as he raises
the axe to cut off the head of Charlemont, he strikes out his own brains-confesses his villainy, and dies. The two lovers are doubtless made happy, and so concludes the Atheist's Tragedy; and, with the following little extracts, so must we conclude. Impudence.
“ Impudence !
“ Our sorrows are so fluent,
Our eyes o'erflow our tongues; words spoke in tears
“ Here sounds a music whose melodious touch,
[Unpurses the gold.
Art. IX.-Anecdotes of the Life of the Right Hon. William
Pitt, Earl of Chatham, and of the principal Events of his time. With his Speeches in Parliament from the year 1756 to the year 1778, in 3 vols. 8vo. London, 1790.
The character of Lord Chatham has been so often (and in many cases so ably) delineated within the last forty years, that some apology may be
required for any attempt to throw upon it additional light. Every one knows, that all the political parties who, within that time, have divided the state, though differing in every thing else, have yet been emulous to admire and to quote Lord Chatham : thať Burke and Grattan have left to the world sketches of his character, which do equal honour to him and to themselves; and that even the pen of Junius has conspired to praise him. Nor is his name heard