HORA GERMANICA. No. X. Darkness; or The Venetian Conspiracy-a Tragedy, To an ordinary reader there are few the first place. Consequently, he expresses, in vehement terms, his indignation at all that Contarini has uttered, with entire contempt for his threats and injunctions of secrecy. At once we perceive his anxious wish to check, if possible, the progress of the conspiracy. But, in this he cannot succeed, without, in the first place, losing Clara, and, at the same time, bringing his father and Contarini to the scaffold. His terrific struggles, therefore, betwixt conflicting passions and duties, form the subject of this tragedy. We shall now proceed, as usual, through the five acts, giving extracts from each,-though briefly,-for the entire play is very long. The versification of the first dialogue between Clara and her lover is excellent; and the poetry seems to have been founded on that of the Spanish Shakespeare Calderon, though the metaphysical concetti are of a graver cast than his generally are. shall quote only two pages,—which we recommend as a fair specimen of the ordinary style of Professor Raupach ; who is now, for the first time, introduced to our readers. * * * * * We Cla. Speak on, sweet friend !-I love to hear thee thus ! Oh, could these moments be prolong'd for ever! Nor envious warning bell, nor parting day Rin. Rather say, Love's bland, The silvery moonbeams and the song of The meadow flowers in spring, all Na- Cla. Long may it be so !- blaze With short-lived violence then expire! Rin. Nay, this Thou learnd'st from Isabella-False words like these Flow'd never from the fountain of thy heart How! Thou believ'st that I could break the vows Is all to him resign'd. But, oh! what then Receives the victim in exchange? Perchance One leaf that withers soon.To what or whom Belongs thy heart? Cla. Away,-deceiver ! That I have sworn to thee! Judge not thy 'Tis to the phantom of thy brain enslaved ! friend Untried. Cia. Ah, how long in thy Clara's power Wilt thou leave time for trial ?-Tell me, dearest, 'Tis well for him who for such idol finds The most imposing name "Honour," forsooth, "Devotion"" Patriotism !"— Rin. Oh, thou dearest ! How many months will thy proud spirit Though but indeed a second love,-blame bear That I may call thee mine? Rin. Even unto death. What but the grave can separate true lovers? Cla. What?-Hear I not, in thought, the trumpets blow, That call thee forth upon the stormy seas, The lover in the warrior all is lost- And all affection's former ties unheedful! Meanwhile, the faithful widow'd heart at home Pines on,-uncared for ;-trembles if one cloud Rise on the heaven's wide azure ;-trembles too, When all the winds are hush'd, and in the sea The landscape lies unbroken;-trembles too, When, in the quiet skies, the silvery moon Moves on in cloudless calm; and who can say, That she should not thus tremble?—Clouds, indeed, Portend a tempest ;-but the smiling skies -The tranquil day, and moon-illumined night, Fit all the murderous purposes of war! Rin. Nay, dearest Clara,—yet thou can'st not blame me, If to such dangers, for my country's sake, I had been summon'd-Should I then refuse My life to venture of thy love, indeed, Cla. Ah! hence flows The sufferings of poor woman!-No where, even In love, has she an equal right.-Yet, whole And undivided, boldly thou demandest Thy Clara's heart. To man must every leaf Of the chosen flower belong. Her life on earth not, If to my first affection I am true.- ine ? Sprung from the noblest lineage in our land, ' My soul, from earliest youth, by warlike fame And patriotic ardour was inflamed ;— Remain in such a changeling ?—What, in truth, Obtain'd for me thy favour ?-Surely not Mine outward form.-Man cannot boast of beauty But that I had obtain'd on battle field My country's praise,—and that the bravest knights Acknowledged me for brother-This intwined The bands of our attachment-and, in Thee, My country too, the noblest crown bestow'd The richest recompence for all my toils. Cla. Well, be it so-Since thou hast won the prize, Change now thy lance and sword for myrtle wreaths That round thy brows may twine-and lay aside Thine iron helm. Rin. Nay-wreaths that we deserve not Are heavier even than iron to the browsIf by thy presence every hour henceforth Is wing'd with rapture, yet by duty still, Those raptures must be earn'd-If thou wilt have Eternal spring,-it blooms not, unless fed By radiance ever new. At this point in the dialogue, Contarini enters; and, Rinaldo being left alone with him, the disclosure follows of the conspiracy, in the manner which we have already detailed in a preceding paragraph. Rinaldo violently breaks from Contarini, to demand an explanation from his father; and shortly afterwards we find ourselves in the palace of Faledro. Whence com'st thou ?-What has moved Even as I loved her with my first affections, thee thus ? Rin. I come, Even now, from a mysterious conference, That all my veins has fired and agitated, As in the wild rage of a half lost battle, 'Twas never mine to feel. From Contarini, I learn that you, my father, have conspired With him against our native land;-to crush The establish'd laws of Venice, and yourselves Raise up to power supreme;-reckless to shed, To your own passions, in dire sacrifice, Wears Venice still the garb of consecration. Fal. Too lightly such divinities by youth Are fashion'd; for imagination then Teems, like the fleeting clouds of morn and even, With ever-changing hues; nor hesitates, Even on the meanest phantom of the brain, The beaming wreath of glory to bestow. What seest thou of divinity in Venice ?— Freedom, perchance? And yet, in sober truth, The people are enslaved. Not only they,— We all are slaves;-nor only deeds but words Are fetter'd here.--And no one knows today What harsh command awaits him on the morrow. Our justice, then? Nay, boy, our judges sit Calmly, and pour forth their anathemas, Thy fancy dwells on the free path that still crown, By merit won, our temples shall adorn, Birth must decide, though nature oft hath rear'd, Even in the humblest cot, her favourites; And lavish'd gifts of heaven-born genius there That in proud palaces are sought in vain! We should willingly give the rest of the dialogue, but it is very long; and, by his liberal introduction of politics, we think the author has gone too far. The work, perhaps, was not destined for the stage; yet, an attempt to explain the constitution of Venice was suasion, however, is exhausted between here superfluous. Every mode of perthe parties; and, towards the end of the scene, the dialogue becomes sufficiently impassioned. It closes, at last, with the despair of Rinaldo, and denunciations of the implacable resentment and resolution of Faledro. At the beginning of the second act, Rinaldo is discovered walking distractedly through his chamber, while near him, on a table with lights, appears a large book, which he has just been consulting. His soliloquy in the first paragraph is somewhat obscure, and yet not very original; the rest is better, now, A hypocrite and traitor I shall die,-- And Clara too— -who trusting to my vows, At this moment Kalergos enters, an old preceptor of Rinaldo, to whom the latter immediately applies for an explanation of a passage in the book which he has just been reading. "If," says the law, a son discover that his father is inclined to tyranny, and aims at the destruction of his country's VOL. VIII. . On rights, shall the son, on such an occasion, be silent?-Surely not. the contrary, he shall, in the first place, try every method of persuasion, and even threats, with his father, and if these do not succeed, it is his duty to give the preference to his country!" A dialogue now follows, displaying considerable ingenuity, but at the same time exceedingly undramatic. The author has very skilfully contrived, however, that word uttered by Kaevery lergos, tends more and more to distract and madden his unfortunate pupil.-Kalergos himself becomes at last so completely puzzled and confounded, that he retires, requesting a few days to deliberate on the subject in solitude, and leaving Rinaldo, if possible, much more miserable than he had found him. A short scene follows this, which is in some respects sufficiently effective. -Faledro apprehending that his son would reveal the conspiracy, has formed the notion of keeping Rinaldo for the next twelve or twenty-four hours a prisoner in his chamber. For this purpose, Matteo, a servant of the doge, now appears; but the moment that Rinaldo is thoroughly aware of his intentions, he seizes his intended guard by the collar, thrusts him violently aside, and escapes. To this succeeds a short conference, full of anxiety and preparation between Faledro and Contarini, after whose disappearance we again meet with Rinaldo, who is now accompanied by, and in the house of his intimate friend Bernardo, to whom he has confidentially disclosed the extraordinary situation in which he is placed. Of the dialogue between them we can afford room only for a few lines at the beginning. Rin. A dream? a jest!-Am I then such a jester?Or is there here a carnival when folly Reigns uncontroll'd ?— Ber. Thou speak'st in earnest then? Rin. In earnest ? aye! so my deep sufferings prove! I wonder not that thou should'st doubt. They would yet seek reward by treachery, And bold disclosure Should we proceed any farther with this dialogue, it would be necessary to transcribe the whole, and considering that there are three long acts before us, this would be rather too much. It is indeed much more dramatic and poetical than the disputation on the same subject with Kalergos. The character of Bernardo is in itself finely drawn.He is eloquent, impassioned, and (like Rinaldo) unhappy;-but though his arguments, and the conclusions that he draws, are utterly different from those of Kalergos, yet they have precisely the same effect on our hero, by rendering him only more wretched than ever.-Bernardo, on one occasion, observes, that to injure a king on his throne, a priest at the altar, or a father in his own home, are all horrible crimes; but that of those sacred persons, a father is of all the most important. To this Rinaldo instantly replies, that such an argument is, in his estimation, utterly vain-for that by naming his native country, (" fatherland)," he expresses in one word the concentration of all sanctities. Indeed, we think that the attempts of Rinaldo to obtain advice and consolation, first, from the learning of Kalergos; secondly, from the friendship, spirit, and sympathy of his brother soldier, Bernardo; and, thirdly, (as it appears afterwards) from a Catholic priest, are, to a solitary student, among the best parts of the poem. Yet, notwithstanding this, their merit is altogether undramatic. Their beauty consists in the diversity of interest which the author has given to each dialogue ;-but this would be lost on the stage; for an audience must of necessity judge of every thing in the gross. In like manner, they neither know nor care whether the diamonds in the tiara of an actress are true or false. It is the toute ensemble only that is conceived or cared other in their general effect, and in for. These three scenes resemble each their conclusion, all tending to weave more inextricably the meshes of perplexity and despair around Rinaldo. Though philosophically and historically correct, they would, on account of this resemblance, be tedious on the stage. We have been led en passant into this disquisition, because we think author, is deserving of counsel and enthat Professor Raupach, as a dramatic couragement. After the hopeless conference with Bernardo, Rinaldo has an interview with Isarel, one of the conspirators, from whom he obtains by stratagem every particular relating to the conduct of the enterprize. After another soliloquy, conceived much in the same spirit with that already quoted, the drop scene falls. At the beginning of the third act, we find Clara waiting in the garden of Contarini's palace, to keep an ap pointment with her betrothed lover, which we forgot to mention, had been agreed upon, before their conversation was interrupted, in the first act. Clara is yet utterly unconscious of all the horrors, which have been disclosed, and whose consequences are darkly brooding over her. Her mind dwells yet on the beautiful imagery and passionate declarations of their former dialogue; and her only cause of perturbation arises from the unaccountable delay of Rinaldo. He comes at last, however, and under the disguise of a PRETENDED DREAM, describes to her the fearful agitation which he has undergone. |
