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Ber. (Sternly.) High treason !
And drives me restless on to wickedness
art in the right : I am indeed Dissolves it. Therefore, as you see me here, A villain !
Arm'd I have sought you.
would that I
he carried under his cloak, Thou dreamd'st of evil, thou wouldst not without violence, at Hugo's feet.) not fulfill,
As it may happen !- I would have you If once awoke !
fight! Hugo. Indeed ?--yet in thy breast
Hugo. That God forbid !Against a The thought first rose-therefore it must be
Hugo. With a man
Vul. This is no knightly tournament.
Not strength but skilt these weapons will Thou hast decided well. The die is cast.
require. After the departure of the females,
Hugo. (Anxiously.) Can you not think?
Val. I have resolved. The secret there comes a fine soliloquy of Hugo, Is known to women-therefore will trans. in which it is easy to see that his spirit pire; is brooding upon the idea of imme- And Carlos, unrevenged, may not remain. diate self-destruction ; but the imita. The stain of fratricide, in such a house tion of Hamlet is here too evident, and
As mine, by Heaven ! blood only can efface. the poetry far far inferior. He is ina Nay, more this is the ANNIVERSARY!
He fell to-day; and therefore now shall fall terrupted by Valeros—and there fol
The murderer of my Charles or I! lows a scene which is, perhaps, the most daring in the tragedy, and which, Could'st thou but read my soul?
Hugo. (Shuddering.) Alas ! although we have far transgressed our Val. Well may the combat limits, we cannot resist giving entire. To thee seem horrible :--but as a debt It is quite worthy of a Ford or a Web- Thou ow'st it unto me. Now Love and ster.
Nature and Duty, all contending, tear HUGO, VALEROS. His sword at his side, Thy father's heart; and by the sword alone
and carrying another cantiously concealed Peace can be found.--So draw, and guard under his cloak.
thyself! Val. (Yet in the back-ground, and in a Hugo. Oh, never. Momentary impulse deep protracted tone.) OTTO!
rules Hugo. (who starts violently, and his Our actions. It might be, that when the knees tremble as he turns towards the
sword door.) Oh, is it you ?
Approach'd my heart, the love of life might
And I might kill thee!
Hug. And, if the father o'er the son pre-
Then would thy life be forfeit to the laws Hugo. (Disquieted.) Then will you not
That in this kingdom strongly retire
Val. (Interrupting him, and proudly.) To rest?--But you are armed !-And Who has taught thee wherefore thus,
To draw such false conclusions ?-Don VaAt such an hour ?
leros Val. To arms a Spaniard still
Owns upon earth one king alone, who rules Resorts whene'er his name has been dis. Two southern worlds.
Here in the foreign
north Hugo. Be quiet I know all.
No laws can us controul. If thou shouldst Val. What?
fall, Hugo. For thy sake,
by the proper chieftain of thy house, And Bertha's, and Elvira's, I must forfeit Has God decreed thy punishment. Come That last resource of ordinary sinners
wh fat Wh
to say so ?
my heart !
Hugo. (Feeling the rebuke.). Trade ? Elv. Oh ! I can understand thee (Then with a mixture of supplica.
(She draws forth the dagger.) tion and warning:)-Father!
It is this? Val. Come on, I say ! we may be inter Hugo. Its place was on my heart rupted.
Elv. And thou shall have it ! Will thou not fight ?
(Embracing him with ardour.) Hugo. (Depressed.) No!
Farewell until we meet again ! Val. How !_Thou bear'st the name Hugo. Ayethere. Of two heroic lines, and art a coward ? Where sister, friend, and wife at last unites, Hugo. (Forgetting himself.) Who dared The same chaste bond. Then give it me
and fly! Val. Coward and assassir !
Elv. Softly! Hugo. (Enraged, takes up the sword.) (She retires from him, and takes hold Death and hell !
with her left hand of the harp, which Val. (Stations himself, and draws his rests on a chair ; then adds resolutely, sword.)
and with dignity.) At last !—Thou roused up Tiger,
To me, even as to thee, for ever Unsheath thy sword !-Fall on-have at Is peace destroy’d; and equally has guilt
Oppress'd my soul. Now, therefore, since Hugo. (After a short pause of recollec
the time tion.) No !-cursed
Has come for parting, I shall boldy go No!-curs'd for ever be this hand, if now, Before thee through the dark and unknown It bears the steel !
path (He breaks the sword, still in the scabbard, That leads to life eternal. close over by the handle and throws
She stabs herself; her knees faulter, both pieces behind him.) Go—and may rust devour thee !
the harp falls sliding from the chair to Val. (Struggling with unconquerable rage.) the ground, and she sinks down upon Ha !-caitiff! if thou dar'st not risque the it, holding the dagger in her right combat,
hand. Then die at once !
At this moment the whole persons (He'suddenly takes his sword, and turns of the drama rush in, alarmed by the
it in his hand like a dagger.) noise of Hugo's fall--but we cannot We cannot both survive!
quote any part of the heart-rending When Valeros is just about to stab scene which follows. As soon as both Hugo, they are interrupted by Elvira have expired, Don Valeros draws the -and another beautiful scene occurs dagger from the wound of Hugo, and which ends in the reconciliation of the exclaims father and the son—a reconciliation If the spirit which is not the less deep and tender, When thus the body falls, is free-then because neither of the reconciled entertains any prospect of felicity either Oh friendly steel ; and give me freedom too! for himself or in the other. After this, the unhappy pair are left alone upon
Bertha wrests the dagger from him, the scene, and we feel that the presence of any third individual would be Knight! be a man !-Kneels not your a profanation of their retirement, and grandson here? a needless insult to that love which Val. And can'st thou live, if thou indeed even in guilt preserves something of
hast loved him ? its nobility. A deep stillness prevails
Ber. I am à Christian ;-only those
whom GUILT for some minutes, during which Hugo sits on his chair, and
Or madness rules, are suicides. Be thine prays with ap
To live, even for this orphan boy, parent tranquillity in silence. Elvira
Otto. Oh Heaven ! kneels by her harp opposite to him, And wherefore are these horrible events ? and
prays also earnestly, but without Ber. Enquirest thou why stars arise and moving her lips. The clock strikes twelve ; and the Anniversary of Guilt That only which exists is clear belowis at a close. A slight shuddering More only can the judgment-day reveal. seizes Elvira--she rises slowly from
(The curtain falls.) prayer, and calmness is spread over Such is the termination of this noher countenance. Hugo, when the ble tragedy—we feel that no words of clock has ceased striking, rises slowly ours could add any thing to the effect from his chair and approaches Elvira. it must produce.
Hugo. The hour has call’d! Sweet wife, One word, however, before we close Now give me what thou hast, and I require the column, concerning the translation
from which we have quoted so lavish- years been added to that part of our lie
nost elegant that ever issued the least of his praises. He has shewn from the press of Ballantyne. But we himself to be not a skilful versifier trust he will soon give the world a merely but a genuine poet, for no man large edition. The encouragement but a true poet can catch and give back this play must receive, will also, we again as he has done the fleeting and hope, stimulate Mr Gillies to further ethereal colours of poetry and passion. efforts in the same style. What a fine He has produced a work which is en field lies open for one who possesses, titled to take its place as a fine Eng- in such perfection as he does, the two lish tragedy--the finest, we have no richest languages in Europe-the Ger. difficulty in saying, that has for many man and the English.
“ The remembrance of youth is a sigh.”--Words of Ali. THERE is a moaning sound abroad As searching round, with eager foot, I list its pașsage through the trees ;
The pointer snuffed the tainted gale;
Crouched at the yellow stubble's root,
Which, faintly here and there, reveal'd
Or knelt, as forward thro' the air,
Ye come upon me like a tone
Of music issuing from the dead. Yet I remember-ah ! too well,
Before my view, is there unfurl’d, Remember me of glorious days,
map of feelings, perished-pastWhen beautiful the golden rays
The visions of another world, Of morning on these forests fell;
Without a cloud o'ercast ! And birds were singing overhead,
Time alters all alone I stand, Amid the sky, their carols light,
And listen to the moaning breeze, And wavelessly the river spread
And to the rain-drops, from the trees, Its silver mirror bright.
Down dripping on the moistened land ; Up with the sun-a happy boy,
But thou, my brother, placidly, O'er heath, and rugged fields, I hied ; Far-far beyond the ocean's roar, And wandered by my brother's side, Within a grassy grave dost lie, For hours, and hours, with heart of joy ; Upon a foreign shore !
THERE is a mystery on departed things, The hooded monk, no more, in gothic aisle
, Which renders distance beautiful! no more
Sequester’d, ponders o'er his massy tome, :
As, thro' the stained glass, the sun-beams
Witchcraft, and sheeted ghost, and haunted
dome! Notes every planetary aspect down:
NOTWITHSTANDING that in a late tropolis, but to the whole inhabitants Number of the Magazine we called of the empire. There is nothing which the attention of our readers to the contributes so much to uphold the forproposal of restoring the Parthenon in tunes of a city, or to improve the taste the National Monument for Scotland, of its inhabitants, as the existence of we have no scruple in again adverting great models of art within its walls. to the subject, being convinced that it To this day, travellers are attracted is one in which a great portion of our from the most parts of the world, by readers take a lively interest, and that the beauty of the edifices which have its importance is such as to demand a survived the political decay of Athens. large share of the public attention. The cities of Florence and Naples owe The embellishment of the metropolis, almost all their present celebrity and indeed, is becoming now a matter of prosperity to the magnificent models national interest. From all quarters of art which they contain, and the we find strangers flocking to our city, Piazza St Marco of Venice upholds the and vying with each other in praises fortunes of the city amidst the utter of the grandeur of its situation, and ruin of her commercial and political the rising beauty of its edifices. Yet greatness. We are informed by Giba few years of public spirit and exer- bon, that Rome itself, the mistress of tion, such as those which have just the world, would have sunk under the terminated, and Edinburgh may vie accumulated disasters which followed with any metropolis in Europe in the the wars of Belisarius and Narses, and splendour of its architectural embel- have been converted into a perfect delishment.
sert, but for the sanctity of the tomb From what has been done in those of St Peter, and the interest which the years, indeed, we are disposed to au- beautiful ruins with which it aboundgur most favourably of the future em- ed created on the revival of the arts. bellishment of the city. The Advo- The importance of such public edifices cates' Library, with the great stair was well understood by Bonaparte; leading to it, will form one of the most and every body knows, that the great splendid rooms in Europe-the cele- works which he executed in every part brated gallery in the Colonna Palace at of the empire, but especially at Paris, Rome not excepted. The vista of contributed as much to establish his Waterloo Place, with some defects, popularity as the lustre of his foreign presents a magnificent instance of ar- conquests. chitectural ornament, and does equal Now, in the eventual desertion of honour to the correct taste and sound this city by the higher ranks of the discretion of the very eminent archi- nobility and gentry who have hithertect by whom it was designed. The to made it their residence, and in the University promises to throw into the risk which it runs of degenerating inshade every building in Britain in the to a provincial town, and ceasing to be exquisite beauty of its interior apart- eminent either in science or art, it is ments; and the traveller who enters a matter of the last importance to esthe great museum is transported to the tablish some great and permanent obregions of classical taste, and feels that jects of attraction, which may survive. the taste which formed the superb the fluctuating taste of fashion, and hall in Dioclesian's baths, and model counterbalance the strong propensity led the glorious dome of the Pantheon, which draws every thing that is disyet lives in our northern regions; and tinguished, either in genius or manthat the same name, which is so ho- ners, to our southern metropolis. Such: nourably distinguished among the phi- an object Nature has given to her losophers of the age, is destined to be people, in the matchless beauty of its associated also with the greatest tri situation, and the admirable quality of umphs and most splendid productions the quarries by which the city is surof art.
rounded. These circumstances have The continuance of this taste, and given Edinburgh the means of obtain the progressive improvement of our ing architectural ornament to a degree public edifices, is a subject of interest infinitely beyond any other city in the not merely. to the citizens of this me« empire, and if properly improved by Vol. VI.
the public spirit and taste of the in- brought the art of painting to perfechabitants, promise to combine with the tion in the space of a single generation. eminence of its university in making It was in the same spot, and from the it the northern capital of science and influence of the same causes, that the of art.
sublime conceptions of Dominichino But towards the attainment of this and the Caraccis arosé. Michael Angreat and most desirable object, which gelo, we are told, boasted that he would we wish in the most earnest manner build the Pantheon in the air; and iý to press upon the attention of the the dome of St Peters, there remains & leading men in the country, it is ab- monument of the force of his genius, solutely necessary that the great mo chastened by the incessant study of that dels of ancient art should be establish- matchless edifice. The superb archie ed amongst us, and that the public tecture of Sansuvino and Palladio is taste should be formed on those per formed entirely on the study of the fect edifices which the genius of an- Colyseum of Rome, and the Piazza cient Greece has bequeathed to the St Marco would not have stood aloof succeeding generations of men. In from every thing else in architectiural this respect there is a wide difference, beauty, had not the minds of its auwhich has never been sufficiently at thors been imbued by the study of an, tended to, between the progress of li- cient symmetry. Nor is it to be forterature or poetry and the improves gotten, that the art of sculpture has ment of art. In literature and science been revived in modern times from the works of ancient genius are in the same causes'; and that it is in every body's hands, and the taste of Rome, amidst the remains of ancient succeeding generations is formed upon art, that the genius of the north has the incessant study and habitual in- been compelled to seek the spark by fluence of the most perfect works of which the fire of Grecian genius could former times. It is thus that Homer alone be rekindled. and Virgil laid the foundation of the This is the real cause of that singuimmortal works of Milton and Tasso ; lar phenomenon in the present condiand it is from the unceasing influence tion of mankind
that while England which their beauties have exercised and France have outstripped all other upon succeeding times, that the pre- nations in the career of knowledge, of sent eminence of the age in poetry and eloquence, and of philosophy, and eloquence has arisen. But, in the fine while there exists in this country far arts, the models of antiquity are fixed more wealth for the encouragement to one place, and their influence is of art than ever was before accumulatwholly unfelt by nations a little re ed in modern Europe-yet both namoved from their vicinity. No art of tions are so decidedly inferior to the printing there exists to perpetuate and Italians in the arts that address theme multiply the glorious achievements of selves to the imagination; and that the the human mind, or to imbue distant same nation who justly pride them nations with the sublime ideas and selves upon their acknowledged supeperfect taste by which they were at riority in every department of human first created : And if this is true in genius, should still be compelled to general of the fine arts, most of all is borrow, from a people whom they desit true of architecture ; for though the pise, the rules and the models of the art of engraving can extend to a great fine arts. The solution of this extradegree the taste for painting, beyond ordinary problem, so unlike any thing the sphere of those who have seen the else which we know of human affairs, originals, yet it is matter of universal is to be found in the absence of those observation, that such copies give no models of ancient art, upon which the conception of architectural beauty, or taste of modern Italy has been formed, of the proportions on which it depends. and without which all the efforts of gę
Universally, therefore, in modern nius, like the wanderings of the Israeltimes, the revival of art, and the im- ites who had lost their celestial guide, provement of taste, have been in the leads yet farther from the promised neighbourhood of the remains of an land. cient genius. It was from the study When we earnestly wish to impress of the great statues of antiquity, that upon the public attention, therefore, Raphael and Michael Angelo corrected the propriety of selecting the Parthe, the stiffness of their early manner, and non as the model for the National