Otranto, he is the "Ultimus Romanorum,” the author of the Mysterious Mother, a tragedy of the highest order, and not a puling love-play. He is the father of the first romance, and of the last tragedy in our language, and surely worthy of a higher place than any living writer, be be who he may. this in historical truth, and aware that Baillie, and Milman, and John Wilson jealousy is an exhausted passion in the exist. The "City of the Plague" and the drama, I have given it a more historical "Fall of Jerusalem" are full of the best form. I was, besides, well advised by the materiel" for tragedy that has been seen late Matthew Lewis on that point, in talk-since Horace Walpole, except passages of ing with him of my intention, at Venice, Ethwald and De Montfort. It is the fashion in 1817. "If you make him jealous," said to underrate Horace Walpole; firstly, he, "recollect that you have to contend because he was a nobleman, and secondly, with established writers, to say nothing because he was a gentleman; but, to say of Shakspeare, and an exhausted subject; nothing of the composition of his incom-stick to the old fiery Doge's natural parable letters, and of the Castle of character, which will bear you out, if properly drawn ; and make your plot as regular | as you can." Sir William Drummond gave me nearly the same counsel. How far I have followed these instructions, or whether they have availed me, is not for me to decide. I have had no view to the stage; in its present state it is, perhaps, not a very exalted object of ambition; besides, In speaking of the drama of Marino I have been too much behind the scenes to Faliero, I forgot to mention that the desire have thought it not at any time. And I of preserving, though still too remote, a cannot conceive any man of irritable feeling nearer approach to unity than the irregularputting himself at the mercies of an au- ity, which is the reproach of the English dience; the sneering reader, and the loud theatrical compositions, permits, has incritic, and the tart review, are scattered duced me to represent the conspiracy as and distant calamities; but the trampling already formed, and the Doge acceding to of an intelligent or of an ignorant audience it, whereas, in fact, it was of his own preon a production which, be it good or bad, paration and that of Israel Bertuccio. The has been a mental labour to the writer, is other characters (except that of the duchess), a palpable and immediate grievance,height-incidents, and almost the time, which was ened by a man's doubt of their competency wonderfully short for such a design in real to judge, and his certainty of his own im-life,are strictly historical,except that all the prudence in electing them his judges. Were consultations took place in the palace. Had I capable of writing a play which could be deemed stage-worthy, success would give me no pleasure, and failure great pain. It is for this reason that, even during the time of being one of the committee of one of the theatres, I never made the attempt, and never will.) But surely there is dramatic power somewhere, - where Joanna *) While I was in the sub-committee of Drury Lane Theatre, I can vouch for my colleagues, and I hope for myself, that we did our best to bring back the legitimate drama. I tried what I could to get "De Montfort" revived, but in vain, and equally in vain in favour of Sotheby's "Ivan," which was thought an acting play; and I endeavoured also to wake Mr. Coleridge to write a tragedy. Those who are not in the secret will hardly believe that the "School for Scandal" is the play which has brought least money, averaging the number of times it has been acted since its production; so Manager Dibdin assured me. Of what has occured since Maturin's “Bertram," I am not aware; so that I may be traducing, through ignorance, some excellent new writers: if so, I beg their pardon. I have been absent from England nearly five years, and, till last year, I never read an English newspaper since my departure, and am now only aware of theatrical matters through the medium of the Parisian English Gazette of Galignani, and only for the last twelve months. Let me then deprecate all offence to tragic or comic writers, to whom I wish well, I followed this, the unity would have been better preserved; but I wished to produce the Doge in the full assembly of the conspirators, instead of monotonously placing him always in dialogue with the same individuals. For the real facts, I refer to the extracts given in the Appendix in Italian, with a translation. and of whom I know nothing. The long complaints of the actual state of the drama arise, however, from no fault of the performers. I can conceive nothing better than Kemble, Cooke, and Kean, in their very different manners, or than Elliston in gentleman's comedy, and in some parts of tragedy. Miss O'Neill I never saw, having made and kept a determination to see nothing which should divide or disturb my recollection of Siddons. Siddons and Kemble were the ideal of tragic action; I never saw any thing at all resembling them, even in nerson for this reason, we shall never see again Coriolanus or Macbeth. When Kean is blamed for want of dignity, we should remember that it is a grace and not an art, and not to be attained by study. In all not SUPERnatural parts he is perfect; even his very defects belong, or seem to belong, to the parts themselves, and appear truer to nature. But of Kemble we may say, with reference to his acting, what the Cardinal de Retz said of the Marquis of Montrose, "that he was the only man he ever saw who reminded him of the heroes of Plutarch.“ SCENE I.- An Antechamber in the Ducal Decided; but as yet his doom's unknown: Palace. PIETRO speaks, in entering, to Battista. Pietro. Is not the messenger return'd? Battista. Not yet; I have sent frequently, as you commanded, But still the Signory is deep in council And long debate on Steno's accusation. Pietro. Too long—at least so thinks the Doge. Batt. How bears he These moments of suspense? Pietro. With struggling patience. Placed at the ducal table, cover'd o'er With all the apparel of the state, petitions, Despatches, judgments, acts, reprieves, reports, He sits as rapt in duty; but whene'er And he will start up from his chair, then pause, And seat himself again, and fix his gaze Foul scorn in Steno to offend so grossly. Pietro. Ay, if a poor man: Steno's a patrician, Young, galliard, gay, and haughty. Pietro. Twere enough He be judged justly; but 'tis not for us I saw the president in act to seal The parchment which will bear the Forty's judgment Unto the Doge, and hasten to inform him. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-The Ducal Chamber. MARINO FALIERO, Doge; and his nephew, BERTUCCIO FALIERO. Bertuccio Faliero. It cannot be but they will do you justice. Doge. Ay, such as the Avogadori did, Who sent up my appeal unto the Forty To try him by his peers, his own tribunal. B. Fal. His peers will scarce protect him; such an act Would bring contempt on all authority. Doge. Know you not Venice? know you not the Forty? But we shall see anon. Bertuccio Faliero (addressing VINCENZO, then entering). How now-what tidings? Vinc. I am charged to tell his highness that the court Has pass'd its resolution, and that, soon As the due forms of judgment are gone through, The sentence will be sent up to the Doge; In the mean time the Forty doth salute The prince of the Republic, and entreat His acceptation of their duty. Doge. Yes They are wond'rous dutiful, and ever humble. Sentence is past, you say? Vine. It is, your highness: The president was sealing it, when I In forwarding the Intimation due, Of their decision? Vinc. No, my lord; you know The secret customs of the courts in Venice. B. Fal. True; but there still is something given to guess, Which a shrewd gleaner and quick eye would catch at; A whisper, or a murmur, or an air More or less solemn spread o'er the tribunal. The Forty are but men-most worthy men, And wise, and just, and cautious-this I grant- And secret as the grave to which they doom The guilty; but with all this, in their aspects Doge. Wouldst thou repeat them? Wouldst thou repeat them-thou, a Faliero, Harp on the deep dishonour of our house, Dishonour'd in its chief-that chief the prince Of Venice, first of cities?-To the sentence. B. Fal. Forgive me, my good lord; I will obey (Reads) "That Michel Steno be detain'd a month "In close arrest.” Doge. Proceed. B. Fal. My lord, 'tis finish'd. Doge. How, say you?-finish'd! Do 1 dream?-"Tis false Give me the paper-(Snatches the paper, and reads) ""Tis decreed in council That Michel Steno "--Nephew, thine arm! B. Fal. Nay, Cheer up, be calm; this transport is uncall'd for me seek some assistance. Doge. Stop, sir-Stir not'Tis past. At least in some, the juniors of the number-Let nounced. Vinc. My lord, I came away upon the moment, And had no leisure to take note of that Which pass'd among the judges, even in seeming; My station near the accused too, Michel Steno, Made me Doge (abruptly). And how look'd he? deliver that. Vinc. Calm, but not overcast, he stood resign'd To the decree, whate'er it were; -but lo! It comes, for the perusal of his highness. Enter the SECRETARY of the Forty. Sec. The high tribunal of the Forty sends Health and respect to the Doge Faliero, Chief magistrate of Venice, and requests His highness to peruse and to approve The sentence past on Michel Steno, born Patrician, and arraign'd upon the charge Contain'd, together with its penalty, Within the rescript which I now present. Doge. Retire and wait without.-Take thou this paper: [Exeunt Secretary and Vincenzo. The misty letters vanish from my eyes; I cannot fix them. B. Fal. Patience, my dear uncle: Why do you tremble thus ?-nay, doubt not, all Will be as could be wish'd. Doge. Say on. B. Fal. (reading.) "Decreed "In council, without one dissenting voice, "That Michel Steno, by his own confession, "Guilty on the last night of Carnival "Of having graven on the ducal throne "The following words——” with you B. Fal. I cannot but agree The sentence is too slight for the offence— It is not honourable in the Forty To affix so slight a penalty to that Which was a foul affront to you, and even To them, as being your subjects; but 'tis not Yet without remedy: you can appeal To them once more, or to the Avogadori, Who, seeing that true justice is withheld, Will now take up the cause they once declined, And do you right upon the bold delinquent. Think you not thus, good uncle? why do you stand So fix'd? You heed me not:-I pray you, hear me! Doge (dashing down the ducal bonnet, and offering to trample upon it, exclaims, as he is withheld by his nephew,) Oh, that the Saracen were in Saint Mark's! Thus would I do him homage. B. Fal. For the sake Of Heaven and all its Saints, my lord- Oh, that the Genoese were in the port! B. Fal. 'Tis not well Doge. Venice' Duke! Who now is Duke in Venice? let me see him, That he may do me right. B. Fal. If you forget Your office, and its dignity and duty, Remember that of man, and curb this passion. The Duke of Venice-Doge (interrupting him). such thing There is no It is a word-nay, worse-a worthless by word: Who begs his bread, if 'tis refused by one, I ask'd no remedy but from the law- And gave me thus a double right to be so. The rights of place and choice, of birth and service, Honours and years, these scars, these hoary hairs, The travel, toil, the perils, the fatigues, The blood and sweat of almost eighty years, Were weigh'd i' the balance, 'gainst the foulest stain, The grossest insult, most contemptuous crime Of a rank,rash patrician and found wanting! And this is to be borne? B. Fal. I say not that: In case your fresh appeal should be rejected, A scion of the house of Faliero? But thou say'st well- —we must be humble now. B. Fal. My princely uncle! you are too much moved: I grant it was a gross offence; and grossly Deep Vengeance is the daughter of deep I have yet scarce a third part of your years, I love our house, I honour you, its chief, The guardian of my youth, and its in structor But though I understand your grief, and enter In part of your disdain, it doth appal me To see your anger, like our Adrian waves, O'ersweep all bounds, and foam itself to air. This creeping, coward, rank, acquitted felon, Who threw his sting into a poisonous libel, And on the honour of—Oh, God! - my wife, The nearest, dearest part of all men's honour, Left a base slur to pass from mouth to mouth Of loose mechanics, with all coarse foul comments, And villanous jests, and blasphemies obscene; While sneering nobles, in more polish'd guise, Whisper'd the tale, and smiled upon the lie Which made me look like them--a courteous wittol, Patient-ay, proud, it may be, of dishonour. B. Fal. But still it was a lie-you knew it false, And so did all men. Doge. Nephew, the high Roman Said "Cæsar's wife must not even be suspected," And put her from him. B. Fal. True-but in those daysDogc. ` What is it that a Roman would not suffer, That a Venetian prince must bear? Old Refused the diadem of all the Cæsars, B. Fal. 'Tis even so. Doge. It is-it is:-I did not visit on The innocent creature, thus most vilely slander'd Because she took an old man for her lord, to him, Who hath a home whose hearth is dear to him, Who hath a name whose honour's all to him, When these are tainted by the accursing breath Of calumny and scorn. B. Fal. And what redress Doge. Death! Was I not the sovereign | All prudence in your fury, at these years, of the state Insulted on his very throne, and made His blood had gilt the threshold, for the carle B. Fal. Do not doubt it, He shall not live till sunset-leave to me The means, and calm yourself. Doge. Hold, nephew! this Would have sufficed but yesterday: at present I have no further wrath against this man. B. Fal. What mean you? is not the offence redoubled Who have forgot their duty to the sovereign? Doge. Why, yes;-boy, you perceive it then at last : Whether as fellow-citizen who sues The mode and means: if you had calmly heard me, I never meant this miscreant should escape, But wish'd you to repress such gusts of passion, That we more surely might devise together His taking off. Doge. No, nephew, he must live; At least, just now-a life so vile as his Were nothing at this hour; in th' olden time Some sacrifices ask'd a single victim, Great expiations had a hecatomb. B. Fal. Your wishes are my law; and yet I fain Would prove to you how near unto my heart But be not thou too rash, as I have been. B. Fal. Why that's my uncle! The leader, and the statesman, and the chief Of commonwealths,and sovereign of himself! I wonder'd to perceive you so forget Although the cause Doge. Ay, think upon the causeForget it not:-When you lie down to rest, Let it be black among your dreams; and when The morn returns, so let it stand between The sun and you, as an ill-omen'd cloud Upon a summer-day of festival: So will it stand to me;--but speak not, stir not, Leave all to me;—we shall have much to do, And you shall have a part.—But now retire, 'Tis fit 1 were alone. I B. Fal. (Taking up and placing the ducal bonnet on the table) Ere I depart, pray you to resume what you have spurn'd, Till you can change it haply for a crown. And now I take my leave, imploring you In all things to rely upon my duty As doth become your near and faithful kinsman, And not less loyal citizen and subject. [Exit Bertuccio Faliero. Doge (solus). Adieu,my worthy nephew.. Hollow bauble! (Taking up the ducal cap. Beset with all the thorns that line a crown, Without investing the insulted brow With the all-swaying majesty of kings; Thou idle, gilded, and degraded toy, Let me resume thee as I would a vizor. [Puts it on. How my brain aches beneath thee! and my temples Oh, for one year! Oh, but for even a day Enter VINCENZO. There is one without I can see no one, not even a patrician— |