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memory ; 'and

VOL. 6.]
Guill; or, the Anniversary.

291 aythor, produced a most powerful im- voice of conscience, and feels himself pression when brought forward on the thenceforth to be a cast-away, a limb Vienna stage, and continued during dissevered by upworthiness from the many weeks to form the chief subject of harinonious whole of nature ;— these conversation along the highly elegant are the great and beautiful ideas which and cullivated audience of that city. It this poet has undertaken to illustrate, by has since been acted with distinguished bis living picture of the workings and success on alınost all the other stages of the fortunes of humanity. On that picGermany, and has, in fact, already taken ture no nian can look with unconcern, a place quite superior to that of any for who is he that is so pure and so hapdrama written for many years in the lan- py as to find nothing in such a picture guage of that country. There are many that reflects back some faint imaye of minor excellences which have had their what has passed within himself? The share in creating so speedily for the thoughts that he scarcely dare avow to piece this high distinction ; but the main bimself have ever passed across bis cause of it must, without ail doubt, be mind—the feelings that have been smosought in the profoundness of those thered--the passions that have been views of Man and his whole destiny, strangled in their evil birth—all these which have been embodied by the author are forced back upon

his in his performance-views which were in reading the tragedy of Guilt, every never before perbaps embodied in any

man must confess to his own soul, that German drama with so much consistent in inuch he has been guilty. and uniforin seriousness of thought, pur- The greatest beauty in Müllner's pose, and expression, but of which scat- management of his fable, lies in the skila tered traces may be found in not a few ful and yet perfectly natural manner in of their most favourite pieces, formed which be has contrived to exhibit guilt on the Greek model, and in wlich those in the fulness of its misery--without so who are acquainted with their litera- far disgusting us with his guilty hero, as ture in many of its other branches, will to take from us any part of that lively see abundant reason for supposing there interest with which fortunes so strange is much to harinonize with the prevail- as bis are, are formed to be regarded. ing spirit of German thought and phi- lo this respect there is no play in the losophy. The interest of this tragedy world, except only Macbeth, that seems is deep-it grapples with, and reveals, to us so fully to satisfy the mind of the so far as they can be revealed, many of reader or the spectator. In the Bride the most hidden mysteries of the huinan of Messina, indeed, there is much of the soul. The elements of feeling, of wbich saine merit ; but the defect of harmony it chiefly makes use, are indeed simple in the whole tone of feeling and lanele nents, unperplexed in the main with guage in that powerful tragedy is suffiany sophistical or phantastic jotermix- cient to counteract, in no slight degree, tures, and undisguised by any considera- the deep impression' its catastrophe ble crowding together of events, inci- might otherwise have been fitted 10 credents, and personages. But the sim- ate. Imperfectly, notwithstanding, us plicity, both of the story itself, and of the moral of that tragedy is brought out the passions which it developes, does by the personages of the fable themnot diminish, but very greatly increase selves ---it is nobly expressed by the the effect of the whole drama. There is chorus in its conclusion; and, in truth, enough to satisfy both the eye and the those sublime words (not easily to be imagination, and surely there is more rendered) might have formed, with equal than enough to awaken trains of reflec- propriety, the conclusion of Mülloer's tion that must be lasting, because they tragedy, or of Schiller's. are es.eotially inexhaustible. The no- Das leben ist der güter hochstes nichi, bility of man, when he falls a free-will Der üel grosstes aber ist die SCHOLD. off-ring to his virtue ;-his poverty, his Another great exrellence is the aumisery, when he has sioned against one thor's use of the iuea of Destiny--the

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manner in which he has presented that heir, and who presents him in that chaidea throughout, with all its power and racter to her own lord. He is carried mystery, and yet without compromising to the Scandinavian castle of this lord, in any degree the entire freedom and re- and educated there in all the wild freesponsibility of the agent. His hero, dom and wilder superstition of the Hugo, is brought before us as one con- north. Ere he bas passed the limit of cerning whom evil action and miserable manhood, however, he travels over the sortune had been foreboded and pre- world, and is led by his delight in redicted even before his birth; and yet, viewing the recollections of bis infancy, with such truth and power bas he given to spend soine years on the soil of Spain. back the image of our mysterious life, Koowing nothing of the secrets of his that this circumstance does not clash own strange bistory; and, in consewith any of our natural feeliogs con- quence of a change of name, being uncerning the proprieties of retribution- known in like manner to any person in and we see, that however much of his Spain, he forms an intimate friendship life may have been foreknown, be was with a young noblernan of his own age, yet master of that life, and the sole arti- and conceives an unfortunate passion for ficer of all its issues. In poetry, which this friend's beautiful wife. After long is itself the reflection of life, through a contending and struggling with his pasmedium that both beautifies and mag- sion, his resolution is at last overcome by nifies that which it reflects-above all, the knowledge ibat his passion is ferin such poble poetry as that of Müllner vently returned. The honour of Elvira -we are not astonished, that more of is no more, and the suspicions of her the hidden mysteries of life should be lord are sooo excited :-in bis jealousy seen, than in ordinary life, as we our- be insults Hugo,and kindles thereby the selves contemplate it,--any more than first stirrings of that guilty thought which that the palpable features of actual life is destined to lead bim to all his misery. should be exhibited in such poetry with He is slain by Hugo in the forest—but new freshness and energy of colour and it is supposed that he had fallen by an of tone. It is only as if the poet were accidental discharge of his own fowling, permitted to have some glimpses of that piece--and (amidst many sorrowful prescience which we know does exist, fears on her part, and some dark suspiand amidst our admiration of his genius cions, but without any actual knowin its other workings, we scarcely per- ledge or belief of his guilt) be becomes mit ourselves to question the possibility the husband of the beautiful Evira, of such things being granted to one só who loves and is loved again with all gifted as he is. It is possible, without the matchless fervour of southern immaking any use of this awful idea, to agioation and southern blood. They represent, with abundant power and leave Spain, carrying with them the sou energy, some single tragical event, some of Elvira by her murdered husband, one unbappy accident in one man's and take up their abode in the paternal life ; but without its use it appears to castle of Hugo, where they spend a us to be quite impossible to unfold a year in company with Hugo's unmarcomplete panorama of all that inextri- ried sister Bertha, a lady whose pure cably mingled, and indissolubly con- northern simplicity of virtne and of hapnected progress of thoughts and actions piness affords a strange contrast to those in which alone the true and entire trage- tumultuous miseries and pleasures, lie dy of any man's bistory can be revealed. tween which the life of the guilty bus

The mother of this Hugo, a Spanish band, and the not innocent wife, is dilady, being alarmed by some dark vided. words of a gypsey, which promie 00- It is on the evening of the day with thing but evil for his fortunes, is prevail- which ebis year terminates, that the aced uron, in the absence of her husband, tion of the play commerces.

Elvira to give the boy to her friend, a northern appears alone upon the stage, beguiling countess, who is anxious to bave an the time with the music ol ber harp in

YOL. 6.)
Guilt ; or, the Anniversary.

293 her secret chamber, while Count Oerin- of Yes and No. Thy lord was Hugo's friend ;-

You must have known each other. dur is engaged in the chase


Elv. We--it was-(After she has by degrees forced mountains. A gloomy dread_a pre- herself to look up at Bertha) sentiment of something about to befal Sister ! thy pure and penetrating mind her husband, seems to hang upon her

I know will seal Elvira's condemnation ; mind; and the sudden breaking of The o'ertlowing source of anguish. Hugo !--yes-

Yet must I tell thee what has been to me one of the strings of her instrument is I knew him--nay, I loved him yet before sufficient, in the excited and feverish The sudden death of Carios. state of her fancy, to make ber give

(She turns herself away Bertha goes from het

with the expression of disapprobation. After a words in solitude to the apprehensions, pause , Elvira resumes) whose weight she cannot throw from Therefore, now, her. The sister of her husband comes

A leaf that rustles in the evening breeze into the chamber and observes ber

Will make me tremble. God has given me Hugo.

But still, methinks, just vengeance sies in wait, alarm—and being informed of its fan- with sharp extended sabre, o'er the head tastic origin, ridicules her for indulging Of'that devoted sinner, that, led on in it.

By passion wild, could dare, though but in thought,

To anticipate a husband's early doon.-Bertha (with cheerfulness) You know not yet

Therefore, dread apprehension haunts Elvira. The ways of northern spirits. It is true,

That she, too soon and suddenly, may lose Beyond your Pyrenees, guitars may breathe

The gift bestow'd, but not deserved, of Heaven. From shadowy hollows, and terrific steeps,

(Bertha returns, looking on her as if with compasProphetic music. But, in these cold realms,

sion) Spiritual guests another language hold.

Ber. That conscience thus disturbs thine inward Down through the chimney's narrow throat the

peace, winds

Bear humbly as a purifying penance; All blow with swelling cheeks. Then all the doors

It is my brother Hugo whom thou lovest, At once fly open:-hands invisible

And Hugo's sister cannot judge Elvira. Extinguish every light. The affrighted stork, (They embrace with emotion, and go severalScreaming, departs from the devoted house.

ly to the windows. The rushing of the The roof-tree cracks, portending sudden fall ;

wind, already heard, becomes stronger and Owls, great as eagles, at the window peck,

more perceptible in the few moments of siWhile in the chimney-corner, spitting fire,

lence.) Black cats are stationed; and, at last behold,

Elv. Hear how the wind awakens on the shore Dancing in flames of blue and green, appears

And the North sea is roaring. All the stars Even a whole armamentof imps from hell:

Are veild in clouds, and from the obscure horizon But if you hear not, close upon your ear,

Comes the thick snow, by raging tempests driven ; The owl cry,-"Hugo!" you need never fear And, like the sands of the Arabian desert, That he will not return.

In dusty whirlwinds rises up again, Elo. (Reproachfully) Bertha !-and yet

Covering the nucb'd and frozen earth with wreaths, Thou mran'st it well;-by jessing wou.dst beguile

Like church-yard mounds, as if to mark the graves And tranquillize my spirit, Oh, were this

Of those that in the reckless storm have perish'd. But apprehension !

( She comes from the window.) Ber. Say, what is it more ?

To me it rustles, even as if the air Elv. Past sufferings now their wonted power as

Were filled with vultures' wings. -Oh Bertha, Ber

tha !--sert, Eren in my inmost heart ; for at the chace

Could'st thou but teach me to restrain my fears Perish'd my husband Carlos-Otto's father.

For Hugo's safety! Ber. How !

Ber. Be composed, I pray you, Elv. He feil, his horse and he together,

With this assurance, that a band of hunters, And, in the fall, itself by accident

On Danish horses mounted, cannot lose Discharging, his own carabine then gave

Their way through well-known woods,

Besides, The niortal wound.

when clouds Ber. Ah ! then, forgive, I pray,

Obscure the stars, still through the flaky drift, My ill-timed mirth. But, tell me, why was this

A soft resplendence falls to guide their course, So long from me concealed ?

Even mid the darkest paths of rocky vales.. Elv. Thy brother, Bertha,

We call it snowlight ;-but in your warm climes Shuns all remembrance of that sad event ;

Even is the name unknown.
For Carlos was his friend, and was to him
Indebted for his life. The creditor

At this moment the sounds of hunt. And debtor, more than brothers, loved each other.

ing are heard faintly, and at a far disBer. Thou knew'st my brother, then, while Car

tance--and Elvira, believing that her los lived ? Elv. (Confused) No-yes

husband has returned, calls on her son Ber. How's th is ?-You leave me a free choice Otto, to go forth and receive him at the


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Ber. Exaggeration all ! castle gate. The boy obeys, but in a

He who assists to cut away a branch short time returns with the intelligence, Makes it a lowering tree. that a stranger has arrived, an old Elv. ( Possessed by her own fancies.) knight, he says, and a Spaniard, with a Oh, Heaven protect me ! retinue. The boy is delighted with the

He is a raging liger!

Ber. Surprised. Who? sight of their Spanish dresses, and the

Eiv, Count Hugo. music of their Spanish speech-and he Ber. Surely you dream. wonders why his mother should not Eiv, Ay, it was a frightful dream, partake in his innocent joy. The strao

That on our marriage night o'erpowered my souli...

I thought to embrace my husband--when behold!... ger, however, is hospitably received, A tiger glared upon me.White I tell it and after he has been conducted to bis Even now delirium almost seizes me.... apartment, the couver

versation between I could not leave hun ;---and I kissed his claws Elvira and Bertha is resumed. The And bloody teeth.--He— sister lainents over the changed manners

(She pauses, overpowered by her

imagination.) and ill-concealed unhappiness of her Ber. Phantoms all !---the offspring brother. There is much beauty in the of heated blood. wbole of this dialogue. Elvira says, to

Elv. Oh no ;---too true. too near

Is the resemblance :---Bertha---say yourselfwards its conclusion,

Does not the Count now every day become

More wild and daring ?.-Whe he would embrace How? not happy?--he is mine,

I throw niyself all shuddering on his breastAnd if he loves me, then he must be so.

He is indeed a tiger--whom I must Ber, [With a melancholy smile, and doubtfully

With terror hate : or even to madness love. shaking her head]

Even while he gently leans himself upon meg With inward peace his bosom deeply fillid,

Sighstovingly, with eyes deinanding kisses ; And singing as he goes, when winter comes,

Even then within those eyes a frightful gleam To southern realms the white swan hies away.

Oft-times appears, that like the lightning's flash Thence duiy he returns, with clearer voice,

Pierces my frame: and mine own chosen busband And plumage more resplendent. ---Not so Hugo !

Seems to me like a wild beast of the forest, Borne through the azure kingdoms of the main,

That loves me,-yet might rend me even to death.. Grily he went, unruffled as the swan,

( After a pause and earnestly.) Strong as the mountain-eagle. But, alas!

May Heaven protect your pure and virgin heart As he went forth, not so did he return

From such internal furies, that, conflicting, To his paternal hearth and anxious friends.

Alternate urge me on to hate and love. As in your bosom, so in his prevails

(Erit.) A storm of passions fierce that blaze away The torch of his internal energy.-

Ber. (having looked after her] Are these dire His lock'd up bosom, that but ill conceals

sufferings then in fervid climes

Called love ? ... Deeply moved)...Oh! bad my brother The impulse to wild pleasure ; and his looks

staidat bome! Retiring, dark. ---that, when they meet in yours Gleam after gleam of self-destroying fire--

(She pauses.)

At the opeoing of the second act, Ah, these are not the signs of happiness !- Hugo is discovered reposing on a sofa That cannot live, unless where it is fed

in his chamber quite exhausted with his By calm repose and peace.

fatigues. His sister Bertha enters, and At last word is brought that the

a tine and highly dramatic conversation Count is safe, although he has been in the alarms of Elvira, and Hugo turns

ensues between them, Bertha narrales great danger from the assault of a wild


Bertha boar—and shortly after be enters the

go to his wife's apartmeot. castle, He will not see Elvira till he

says has washed the blood from him and

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the wild boar attack'd you, and you

seized while he is doing som once more Bertha Him in your tum, and conquer'd him like Samson, and Elvira are left alone, and tbe first Or Hercu es, that with his hands alone act closes with this striking passage.

A lion could destroy,

Hugo. He is a fool

That Holm-a babbling fool. 'Twas nothing :Ber. How is it with you, sister ? --- Why are thus Chance made the encounter somewhat rough, and your looks disturbed ?

vex'd me... Eld. That fearful narrative !...

Danger there could be none. Yet was the tale How vividly all came before my sight!

Not suited for Elvira... Oh borrible!

Ber. So it seemd ;

VOL. 6.]
Guilt ; or, the Anniversary.

295 For almost like a corse with open eyes,

Ber. (Who sinks on a chair, covering her face) Oh! So baggard, and so pale she look'd, when Holm

poor Bertha ! (Suddenly she springs up again. The story ended. Scarcely could her limbs

Good Heavens !and wherefore ? Support her trembling frame. Yourself she called Hugo. What alarms you thus ? A ravenous beast and then began to tell

Ber. 'Tis nothing. Pray tell on. A frightful dream, that on her bridal-night,

(Hugo turns to go out. Then follows the whole narrative of But you are going?

Hugo's birth, which had been revealed Hugo. I will go to her... If against me her heart has now been turn'd,

to him by his supposad father at the I must take care to win it back again....

moment of death.

It is beautifully 'Tis but when absent that Elvira hates me. thrown together, but our limits forbid Ber. Yet leave her time to be more tranquillized,

our yielding to the temptation. At its Dear brother, and meanwhile impart to me, Thy faithful Bertha, what in truth it is,

close-Bertha, who has listened in unThat so disturbs thy peace.-'Tis plain to all, broken silence, exclaims with pathetic In your intoxicated looks, the flame

emotion. of mutual passion glows, and you possess Lach other with the church's benediction.

Ber. Oh, farewell all Hugo. (half aside) The blessing of a priest—but My golden dreams of pleasare ! not of Heaven !

Hugo. What is this? Ber. This union of true hearts will not remain

Bertha, what thus afflicts you? Unblest by children-What-1 beg you tell me

Ber. Oh, thou Nameless ! What can thus drive you froin and to each other, And can'st thou ask ? ---Think on our early years ; Even like two ships on a tempestuous sea,

How we, from youth grew up even like twin flowers, Asunder borne, or on each other dash'd ?

That on the self-same stalk together bloom. Hugo. Know I myself?-Methinks the south and

I lov'd you ;-nay, the fibres of my heart, north

With yours were intertwined. A sweet delusion Should never kiss each other. They are poles Sanctioned and rendered holy my attachment. of one straight line divided by their axis.

(In tears.) Now is the magic seal in pieces broke If the blind efforts of fierce violence change

My heart is broken with it. That right line to a circle, and tie up

Hugo. Bertha !-giri !-The south and north together, for a space

Forget what Hugo said---love him again, By force they may be join'd ;-but like the steel And he shall ever as a brother love thee. of a bent bow, that circle will return

Ber. (After a long negative shaking of the here." Ere long to what it was, and so remain.

Oh, no!—The dream is past and gone.--The days Ber. To clear up riddles, and afford solution of innocent love are past. No more shall I To anxious doubts like mine, comparisons

Embrace thee.-Thou art not an Oerindur. Will not suffice.

Between a sister's and a woman's love Hugo. I have no more to give.

The veil is rent asunder. From this roof, Even to myself, no less than to my friends,

My father's castle, where thy silence held me, I am a riddle.--In my feverish being

If so thy countess wills, I luust away. [Erit. The hostile poles mechinks are met together.Born in the south, but here bred up I feel

Shortly after the bov Otto enters : he Nor here nor there, like one that is at home.Even as a tree, whose roots dislike the north,

comes to inform the count of ibe arriva! Yet in the south, his branches meet decay :

of the Spanish stranger.

Ere he has Here frozen in the stem, and there with leaves done speaking Elvira enters : Bertha Inflamed and parch'd.-Together in myself, has been telling her the strange story 1 join both cold and heat,-and earth and Hea

st communicated by Hugo--and Elven, Esil and good.

vira, in her wildness, has conceived jea-Ber. Delusive visions all!

lousy of Bertba, now no more believed Though first in Spain thine eyes beheld the light,

to be the sister of her lord. Hugo reYet were our parents both from the same stock Of northern worth ies.

pels her suspicions--and after a pause, Hugo. Thine were so, 'tis true

Elvira thus speaks-tremblingly,
My parents wure of different origin.
Ber. (Surprised) How !

Hogo! can'st thou forgive me? (Hugo starts 02 perceiving that he has said more

Hugo, I deplore than he intended; then becomes tranquil. Thv misery and my own. Hugo. There is no reason now,

Elv. Can Bertha? That I should still conceal, what on the field,

Hugo. Freely.... Surrounded by his own victorious troops,

She in her heart is conscious of ro crime :While he lay dying in mine arms, thy father

She can look boldly, and defy suspicion-To me confided.

But we have not even power to trust ourselves. Ber. Ah !-What must I hear ? Hugo. That I am not thy brother,

• Verneinender Kopfbewegung.

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