Imágenes de página
PDF
ePub

whisky is not so scarce as gin and brandy. Port wine is extremely good, and is sold from 12s. to 158. per dozen: a single bottle at the inns is charged 2s.; but if bought in quantities, may be had for less than these prices.

Economy prevails in household management, and the female branches spin, at leisure, flax; and thus produce excellent diaper, check, linen, &c. for family use.

The fairs, which are not infested with sharpers, showmen, &c. as in England, serve to enliven the friendship of different parts; and the assemblies, races, &c. that originate from them, afford an opportunity of a mutual association of the northern beaux and belles, with the southern.'

The ladies are sensible, polite, and accomplished; pleasing and elegant in their address, and of a more domestick turn than the ladies of England of the same rank or fortune. They are also fond of music and dancing, and excel in each. Fashion soon finds her way hither from the three kingdoms.

"The packet's come, I'll lay my life upon it:

I know by pretty Betsy's helmet bonnet !"

The native charms of the belles, assisted by milliners and mantuamakers of judgment and taste, dignify an assembly, and enliven society, with as great a degree of spirit as any in England; nor do' they recur to foreign artifices to solicit love and admiration.'

The natives of the lower classes are of a swarthy complexion, stout, with an air of melancholy pervading their countenances; the men are indolent, but the women are active and lively; they wear no stockings nor shoes, except on particular occasions; the men wear shoes or sandals, which they call kerranes, made of untanned leather; their cottages are low turf buildings, thatched in an humble style, and the thatch is bound down with a network of straw ropes intersecting each other.'

Those who wish to read the succession of vicars and rectors in the different parishes, the proportion of births to marriages and deaths, extracts from parish registers, and a collection of epitaphs from the several burial-grounds, may consult the Parochial Tour which is annexed to the general account given in the letters.

ART. VI. Arminius; a Tragedy. By Arthur Murphy, Esq. 8vo. 2s. 6d. Wright. 1798.

T HIS fresh offering from an old and respected dramatist-consists of two parts; a political dissertation in prose, called the Preface; and a tragedy in blank verse, called Arminius.

*The word whisky signifies water, and is applied by way of eminence to strong water, or distilled liquor. It is drawn from barley, and is preferable to English malt brandy.

Johnson's Journey to the Western Islands, 8vo. 1775."

In the preface, after a few words relative to the spirit of reform, or revolution, which, at the period of the French national assembly, made its appearance among our active politicians, Mr. M. passes on to the origin of the war; which, in the phraseology of administration, he terms just, necessary, and unavoid-, able. On this point, he enters into a long and elaborate discussion, quoting Tacitus, Polybius, Montesquieu, &c. &c. and warmly proving his attachment to our venerated constitution, and his abhorrence of the enormities which have been committed by Gallic innovators. This path, however, is so much beaten, and is so entirely unembellished by the flowers and agreeable views which ornament other walks of literature, that we hope to be excused from following the author's steps in his present excursion through it: we shall direct our attention, then, to the Drama.

In undertaking a tragedy on the story of Arminius, or Herman, as the Germans call him, by his native name, Mr. Murphy enters the lists with the first poet of Germany, with Klopstock; who, in three noble chorus-dramas, has immortalized the principal events in the life of this hero of independence *. It is seldom prudent to provoke comparison with the classical writers of any age; and least of all with those of our own, whose beauties cannot be transplanted without a charge of plagiarism. On this charge, Mr. Murphy is not to be arraigned: but it is scarcely possible to read any of the scenes suggested to both poets by their common intimacy with Tacitus, without missing the lofty heroism and heart-cleaving feeling which characterize the German bard. Mr. Murphy is no contemptible tragedian: though his Grecian daughter has been thought to disappoint the reader, that performance is never beheld at the theatre without sensation, from the rapid alternations of emotion, from the ebb and flow of joy and sorrow, which its trying-its electrifyingsituations produce. Had we never known the Thusnelda of Klopstock, we might, on this occasion, have assigned to the daughter of Segestes a rank near to that of Euphrasia among the heroines of the domestic charities and the patriotic virtues.. The story of the play is this:

Act 1. Segestes, a German chief in the service of Rome, is besieged in a strong hold by Inguiomer, a German opponent. The Roman General Cæcina is hastening to relieve his ally Segestes; and Arminius is approaching to reinforce the German

*He was co-temporary with Tiberius, and bravely though not always successfully withstood the incursions of the Roman invaders: Germanicus had the honour of finally vanquishing him.

[blocks in formation]

camp. Velleda, the wife of Arminius, is in the power of her father Segestes, Flavius, the brother of Arminius, is in the service of Cæcina. Segimund, the son of Segestes, follows the fortunes of Arminius. Cæcina arrives first, dislodges Inguiomer, and resolves to send back Velleda to her husband.

Act 2. Arminius now joins the unfortunate Inguiomer: some patriotic conversation excites an interest for young Segimund: Velleda is restored to Arminius: Flavius accompanies her, and receives reproaches.

Act 3. Segestes brings an offer of peace from Cæcina, which is refused by Arminius. (This whole act wants business and interest, and consists merely of family-conversations.)

Act 4. Preparations are making for battle. The bards of Arminius sing the following war-song:

1. Hark, warriors, hark!-That voice again!
A warning voice! heard you the sound?
To arms, it cries, to arms ye freeborn men ;
To arms the woods,

To arms the floods,

To arms, to arms, the echoing hills rebound,
2. The thunder rolls; the light'nings glare;
The gods are rushing to the plain;
Their chariots glitter in the air;
Death in his shroud

3.

Rides in a cloud,

And liberty calls forth her martial train.
Ye warriors seek th' embattled throng;

For freedom who his zeal displays,

His fame shall live,-in sacred song;

And tuneful rhyme,

To latest time

The Bards of Germany shall sound his praise.'

In the battle, Segimund kills his father Segestes, and, on discovering the deed, stabs himself. This is, we think, the best scene of the play: it runs thus:

“SCENE XIII. Enter SEGESTES, on the one side;
SEGIMUND on the other.

Segestes.-Rash youth, whoe'er thou art, advance no farther; Retire, and quit the camp.

Segimund. Presume not, Roman,

To give the law in Germany; that spot,
You dare to tread on, is our sacred right,
Our native soil: the sons of freedom scorn
Th' invader's proud command.

Segestes. I warn you hence;
Go, join your fugitives, or this right arm
Shall cleave you to the ground.

! Segimund

[ocr errors]

Segimund. The gods of Germany thus claim their victim.

-

[They fight.

Segestes. That blow-too deep,-too deep-it pierces here Thus I collect my strength; (lifts his arm) it will not be; My life-blood flows apace; the day is thine. [Falls on the ground. Segimund. This shield, this javelin, and this plumed helm

Are mine by conquest; they are my reward,

The glorious trophies of superior valour. [Stoops to take off his helmet.
Segestes.-The hand of death is on me, and my eyes,

My eyes are dim--and yet a glimm❜ring ray
Begins to dawn-I think, I know that face;
Art thou, say,-speak-art thou my Segimund?
Thou art,-Thou art my son-I die by thee-
"Segimund.-Gods! can it be?-is this-is this my father?
"Enter MARCUS.

• Marcus.-The foe retires dismay'd; the camp is clear'd. Segestes slain! rash youth, this horrid deed

6

Segestes. He is my son ;-oh! spare him ;-spare his youth; He knew me not ;-he did not know his father; Alas! I die.

• Segimund.-Yet stay, my father, stay; Live to redeem me from the horrid crime Of parricide

Segestes.-Oh! you are innocent;

No guilt is thine; my error did it all;

Oh! had I fall'n thus fighting for my country-
Your hand,-oh! let me clasp it once again;

Your father pardons you ;-alas !-I die;

That pang-I die; just Gods forgive my crimes

Segimund. His eyes are fix'd; the pulse of life is o'er;

I,-I have murder'd him; the deed is mine,

The horrid, impious, execrable deed!

I have destroy'd the author of my being.

[He diet.

• Marcus.-Rise, soldier, rise; your grief atones for all. Segimund.-Roman, I am your pris'ner; strike your blow, Strike to my heart; do justice on a wretch,

A man of blood, a terrible assassin ;

An impious parricide !-Here point your javelin,

And let me, let me die in this embrace.

• Marcus.-Assist him, soldiers; raise him from the ground, And bear him hence.

Segimund. You shall not tear me from him.
Oh! happy weapon!-'tis my father's dagger;
It is his legacy; now do your office;
You're welcome to my heart ;-by thee 'tis fit
His murderer should die.

Veleda. [Within.]—I heard his voices
My brother's voice; stand off, I will have way.

Marcus.-What means that frantie woman?

[Stabs himself.

Enter

Enter VELEDA.

Veleda.-Let me see him;

Where is he?-Ha! my brother! On the earth
Welt'ring in blood!-And is it thus, dear youth,
Thus, miserable victim, thus expiring,

Gasping in death, thus must Veleda see you!

[ocr errors]

Segimund-I know that voice; and now I see thee too,

For the last time I see thee;-oh! my sister,
There lies your father; a pale mangled corse;
Entomb us both together ;-in one grave
Let us lie down in peace.-Farewel for ever,

[Dici

Veleda. Thus do we part !-Was it for this I follow'd you? Marcus. They fought like gen'rous warriors; but the son. Prevail'd; he laid his father low in death, And then dispatch'd himself.

Veleda.-What do I hear?

He kill'd his father! Horror !-At the sound
Humanity is shock'd!-yet for his country
He grasp'd the javelin; in the cause of Rome
Segestes fell, and merited his fate.

Yet for a father, filial tears will flow.

• Marcus.-Rise from the ground, and quit this mournful scene, Veleda.-Alas! my Segimund, no crime is thine.

It is the guilt of tumult and revolt ;

The epidemic madness of the times;

When discontent, and jealousy, and faction,
When strife, and wild ambition sow the seeds
Of party-rage; when civil discord arms

Sons against fathers, brothers against brothers,

Then kindred blood is spilt; then horrors multiply,

And nature shudders at a sight like this. [Pointing to the dead bodies, • Marcus.--My duty calls me hence; you must depart.

Veleda. -Yet grant my pray'r, and by one gen'rous act

Shew that you Romans feel the touch of nature,

Let me hear hence the bodies; in our camp

Let me inter them; let me lay together
My father and my brother, and with tears
Pay the last office to their 'cold remains.
In life divided, let one grave unite them.

• Marcus.-It shall be so; I yield to your request. Soldiers, bear hence the bodies.

Veleda. For this kindness

[They are carried off.

Accept my thanks. They both are now at peace.
From this sad spectacle, this scene of woe,
All Germany may learn the dire effects

That flow from party-rage.-This day may give
A lesson to the world, and teach the nations
That civil union is their truest bliss;
And late posterity, when these disasters
Shall be recorded by th' historic muse,

May

« AnteriorContinuar »