not told me of the return of Mynheer your know, mynheer, that a governor-general of

66

Mynheer Tortu! You have sought my even the chorus, so uncongenial to the hahand. Release them-and I am yours. bits and feelings of modern life: it preferred "Tor. Aha! The proud beauty is grow-narrative to action; and adopted for its laning rational. Well, well; that way something might be done.

66

Braaf. No, my child, no. You shall not sacrifice yourself for my sake. Now, and forever, I refuse my consent to such a marriage.

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guage the French fashion of the Alexandrine couplet, the heaviest and most mono. tonous of metres; thus carefully combining every thing to prevent the excitement of strong sympathy in a modern audience. Far, even beyond French, did Dutch trage.

Vog. And I mine. "Wildervanck. Oh that I but had my dy discard truth and nature, sacrificing the

sword.

Enter PETER.

"Peter. Colonel, here are two millions of Dutchmen marching on the viilage. "Tor. Then must the whole nation be in the field. (A cannon shot is heard.) Heaven defend us!

"Pastol. Your orders, colonel? "Tor. I don't know. I have no instructions for such a case. Twill be best to have my horse saddled, and ride off to the general to report the occurrence. (To Peter.) Where is my servant?

"Peter. He has just ridden away on Myn

heer's horse.

"Tor. The devil! (runs ont.).

sympathies of domestic grief, and even the
loftier idealization of sorrow, without ever
inducing the spectator's forgetfulness that he
In illus-
was contemplating a work of art.
tration, and as affording a standard by which
Dutch dramatists should be measured, we
may refer to an old play, still considered as
the masterpiece of the Dutch drama, to wit,
Vondel's Gysbrecht van Amstel.

This national tragedy professes to dramatize the surprise of a Dutch town in olden times, in a manner not unlike the taking of Troy. But all is narrated, nothing acted, ex cept the treachery of the Dutch Sinon. The During this confusion the Dutch captives scene first announces the raising of the longhave got hold of their arms, with which continued siege, when the present joy and they now put their guards to flight, and then past sufferings of the inhabitants are desallying forth, make some progress in tak- scribed. So are, successively, the introducing the village, even before the two millions tion of a vessel laden with firewood, under of Dutchmen, who prove to be their own which lurk hostile soldiers-the adroitness regiment, arrive to their support. It is su- of the Sinon in preventing its being immedi. pererogatory to say that all ends satisfactorily, but not so, perhaps, to add that the happy catastrophe is the emigration of the Belgian manufacturer to Holland.

ately unloaded: and so too, finally, are the fighting, massacre, and other horrors that ensue, when the ambushed troops, issuing from their concealment, admit their friends, We now quit M. van Lennep for some of and fall upon the unwary citizens. The the younger poets who have arisen since piece ends with the flight of the hero, Gys. his fame was fully established in Holland. brecht and his family, when resistance has The first of these, and second to Van Len- become hopeless. In this play the chorus is, nep in popularity, is Van der Hoop; and to not like that of the Greeks, one immutable him we shall for the present confine our at. body, but divided into as many separate chotention. A. van der Hoop is a Rotterdam ruses of nuns, warriors, young ladies, &c, merchant, whose time is mainly devoted to as happens to suit the occasion. The lyric his commercial affairs; and the modest re- strains assigned to these choruses are by far gret he expresses in one of his prefaces for the most pleasing parts of the piece, being his want of a learned education-a deficien- poetical and spirited, while the dialogue is cy which, he adds, he has endeavoured to often heavy, as indeed Alexandrine must be. remedy by unremitted diligence in the Some of the characters, however, are well hours of relaxation-disposes us to look drown, especially that of Gysbrecht. kindly upon the fruits of his exertions. The In process of time Vondel, though still mercantile, like the legal poet, first formed admired, ceased to occupy the stage, or to himself by translation; and then proceeded be the model of his successors. But he was to publish, in almost incredible abundance, unluckily superseded only by the classic occasional poems, fugitive pieces, poetic French tragedians; and the chief change tales, and tragedies. Of these last, his Jo- effected was discarding the chorus, whilst hanna Shore is esteemed the best. But it all that should be dramatized and seen in will be requisite first to glance cursorily at action is still tediously narrated in Alexanthe character of the Dutch theatre. drine couplets. Upon this model is written Dutch tragedy, with which only we are Van der Hoop's Jehanna Shore, blending, as concerned, assumed at its rise a form neither the author avers, the tragedies of Rowe and altogether imitative, nor yet original. It le Mercier, and superadding an infusion of aimed at the old classic model, retaining | Shakspeare's Richard. In his proface the

poet declares that Dutch taste requires the rhymed couplet; but that had he written for the theatre of Paris, Vienna, or London, the tragedy should have been in prose; and then he would, amongst other improvements, have made Jane Shore not a penitent, but (how shall we express it decorously?)-an unfortunate female, and her husband an uxorious idiot, caring only to get her back!

extracts. It is by his poems that van Hoop must be judged in this country.

Of his poetic tales the newest is De Renegaat, originally designed for an episode of a heroic poem upon the French conquest of Algiers; whichlarger work was abandoned, when the African expedition lost its interest amongst the successful abortive revolu tions that followed.

The Renegade for a substantive tale has Is this irony? Or is it possible that a too little story, and that little so clearly suggood English scholar, as our poet unques- gested by, or at least so necessarily recalling tionably is, and an admirer of Shakspeare the Giaour, as to subject the Dutch poet to to boot, can confound the genuine English unfavorable comparisons, even in the best drama with the vicious prosaic monstrosities passage of the poem, the drowning of the unWe therefore close De Reof Dumas and Victor Hugo? However faithful slave. this may be, of a rhyming tragedy the con- negaat, and select a short extract from an duct as well as story of which is familiar to allegorical, mythological poem, entitled Herevery one, it were idle to offer analysis or cules.

See, yon bright shield flings back the torch's shine,
Where in Thebes' kingly halls, two youths recline;
How fair the blush that tints each cheek of rose !
How calm, how soft, the spell their slumber throws!
Sleep on in peace, fair boys, till earth again
Glows in the glories of the solar reign-

*

One shrieks and flies, and round the buckler clings:
With bolder heart the elder boy upsprings:

Nervous and iron-strong, he turns, where they
Approach by stealthy coils, athirst for prey;

Grasps each huge neck, and views their writhing length,
Serene as godhead, playing with their strength.
Vain all their wrath those folds to disengage;
The might that holds them masters their wild rage.
Shout-the child triumphs!-wearied and out-done
The gasping monsters yield; the strife is won;
Powerless, outstretched, supine, they gasp for breath :
He holds them, strains them, casts them off, in death.

We would recommend this Author to, as unknown in Italy; and now Italian his write less, and learn to condense his thoughts. toric novels and novelists are actually swarmIn composition the difficulty is, not to accu-ing, in numbers, if not quite equal to those of mulate, but to reject ideas.

ART. VII.-1. Il Duca d' Atene, Narrazione
(The Duke of Athens, a Narration), by
N. Tommaseo. 12mo. Paris, 1837.
2. Il Primo Viceré de Napoli (The first vi-
ceroy of Naples), by E. C. di Belmonte.
12mo. Parigi: Londra, 1838.

Nor many years ago the novel, as we under-
stand the word, might have been considered

France and Germany, yet approaching very near to our own present home growth.Four authors of this class we some seven or eight numbers back introduced to our readers and are now called upon to perform the same friendly office to two more of the fraternity, who have arisen since that time. These are the Signori Tommaseo and di Belmonte; which last is, however, as we are assured upon good authority, a mere nom de guerre, assumed in compliance with a German fashion. The author's true patronymic is Capoccio, and he himself, we apprehend, a descendant, if not the direct representative of an Italian warrior celebrated in his novel, and

and on the 26th of the following July, exaspe. rated by his arbitrary tyranny, they rose in rebellion against him. This insurrection is the subject of the narration before us.

The opening of the book exhibits, in a series of sketches, the vindictive grief of parents unjustly bereaved of their children by legal or illegal murders; the insolence and licentious amours of the duke's creatures, whether foreigners, or the yet more detested exiles of neighboring Italian cities; and conspiracy ripening amongst nearly the whole population of Florence. This too, not in one indivisible, nor even in a federate form, but, as it would seem, a variety of unconnected conspiracies, scarcely aware of each other's existence; whilst the moment that is to call them all into action appears to be still remote and uncertain. But so many important secrets, each known to so many persons, were not likely to remain long impenetrable to the ruler; and accordingly we early find the fears of one conspirator reveal

one of the champions of Italy in the well-known combat of thirteen French knights, fought for the express purpose of ascertaining the relative military, or rather chivalrous prowess of the two nations; and in which victory deci. ded nearly, if not quite, for the last time, in favour of the former mistress of the world. Both Il Duca d' Atene, and Il Primo Viceré di Napoli, are extremely popular in Italy, and are moreover considered there as decidedly historical. They nevertheless differ very materially, not to say essentially, from each other in character; and, to speak sooth, neither of them answers precisely to our idea of the historic novel. Il Duca d' Atene is, in conception and situation, pretty much what our last number predicated of Ida della Torre, save that it has far less intermixture of love story in fact there is very little of love itself, and of incident arising out of the passion, none. Its merits lay in embodying the humors of the democratic Florentine nobles, people, and populace, in their repub. lican condition; and presenting vivid, striking that which, as implicating the principal ing, and instructive views of the nature of democracy, even in a small, highly cultivated and, for the times, highly enlightened state. Il Primo Viceré di Napoli on the contrary. in due compliance with the most approved recipes for the concoction of these same historic novels, combines a regular lovestory with a fragment of history, but does not blend them. The history comes first; and the love story, with the exception of a bare mention of its existence in the early part, follows only when all historical curiosity, all doubt, and

sympathy are ended. Uufortunately, too, for our gentlest readers, this portion is interes ing chiefly for the picture it affords of the state of the country at the opening of the sixteenth century. But we must speak of these works separately, and somewhat more in detail, beginning with the former and far better performance, Il Duca d' Atene, inasmuch as it takes precedence in time both of action and of publication.

As every reader may not be so familiar with the history of the Italian republics as M. Sismonde de Sismondi, it may not be amiss to give the origin of the tale, for the sake of rendering intelligible the portion of history wrought out of this narrative, as Signor Tommaseo is pleased to call it.

The Florentines, who long alternated be tween the extremes of self-government, to adopt the favourite liberal expression for a sort of dictatorship, in June 1342 elected the French Comte de Brienne. titular Duke of Athens, Captain and Signor of Florence for one year. In the following September they were induced by the duke to make the term of his rule coequal with that of his natural life;

nobles, appears the chief conspiracy, to the duke, who immediately secures the person of its leader, Adimari. This blow brings the heads of the scattered conspiracies together on the very night of the arrest when, in order if possible to save Adimari from death or torture, the ensuing morning is appointed for the general rising, and an introductory popular movement is arranged to collect and excite the rabble. The outbreak affords a lively picture:

"As nine o'clock struck, a tumult arose

in Porta San Piero: an apprentice first

commenced, screaming from his shop door to a neighboring apprentice,- We are now not Florentines but Frenchmen, I tell you, having a French ruler: he who calls himself a Florentine is a traitor!

"Who denies it?' cried the other, with the full strength of his lungs, 'We are Frenchmen; I well know that!

"Thou art flouting me, and dost not speak as thou truly thinkest,' replied the first; and thou liest in thy throat!

"And I tell thee that Florence is no Florence now, and that thou art a scoundrel, the very refuse of Porta San Piero.

"From all sides the people flocked to the scene of strife.

"Jower down, in Mercato Vecchio, two blackguards got up another quarrell.'Thou grumblest,' said the one, because wine is dear; and I tell thee the dearer wine is, the better it relishes, and cheers without getting into the head, and leaves us free to think of the mercies of our lord the duke.'

"To which the second replied, 'Who de

* Italian hours are counted from sun-set: so

this would be, in July, between four and five o'clock in the morning.

nies the duke's mercies? Villain. would'st "One Burgundian giant, his shield coverset me at loggerheads with Guilio d' Assisi? ed with a tiger's skin, brandishing his huge (the bargello, or the head of the police.)I'll have a bout with the first.'

"And grappling each other, they rolled together in the kennel. The noise attracted a crowd.

spear, and uttering terrific threats, routed all before him: but a tanner, armed with a scythe, came behind, and aiming at the joint of the ar mour between the neck and the head, cut right through. The body fell to the left, the spear to the right, and the head in its helmet, spun amongst the horse's feet. Two fair twin youths, reared under the joyous sun of Provence, covered with gold-pointed and beautifully carved shields, and mounted on white mares, were galloping with unloosed visors, when two arrows struck them, and they fell dead at the same instant. The women set up a cry of pity; but two of the pop. ulace, catching the flying mares, exclaimed, 'Thanks to the good duke for the gift? Oh, the Florentine people for ever!''

"When hark! a cry of To arms! bursts from one of the nearest houses, and then from an opposite and distant street, and now it resounds on all sides, filling the city like the deep voice of a bell in the silence of the night. Some shops are already closed and the owners hurrying along, shouting To arms!' Other tradesmen are precip. itately shutting up theirs; artificers and labours run each to his own ward, whilst a few companies, some mounted, others on foot, impetuously scour through the town. Men in the streets call forth their comrades who had remained at home. Cries The duke and his guards are shut hurtle in the air like arrows in battle. Ban- the ducal palace, where they are first beners with the arms of the people, a cross sieged, then blockaded; whilst the leaders gules on a field argent, some with, some without the regal portcullis, waved from the of the conspiracy new model the govern mansions of the noble and the citizen, and ment, and the people revel in atrocious reeven from the meanest hovels. The red venge upon all such of the duke's creatures lily too was there; whilst the duke's ban- as fall in their way. Many scenes of their ners were thrown down, and dragged by a cannibal triumph are taken from contemporabble of boys through the filth and the rary writers, and graphically given; but the blood from the slaughter-houses, with cries subject is revolting, and some of the passag

up

in

es are too coarse and too horrible to trans

late; neverless as a specimen, we select one of the least offensive, yet still characteristic from the blending of buffoonery with ruthless cruelty.

of Death to the duke and his minions! Long live the people and commonwealth of Florence! One thought, that of mutual assistance, filled every mind. From the windows the women, loudly reiterated the cries of Death!' and 'Long life!' threw, one a flag, another a spear, to husband or to father. Others knelt to pray, but inter- "It was well that the better citizens provided rupted their devotions, to chorus from their for the concerns of the republic; the people windows the cry of ' Death! Death! The heeded them not, engrossed with their past streets were instantly thronged with peo-sufferings and present joys. *The ple, active as ants expecting rain.

* *

* * *

worst amongst them, like drunkards to whom a holiday is nothing beyond an opportunity for intoxication, were in keen pursuit of vengeance. Meanwhile the blockake continued; hunger, noiseless and invincible as death, pressed on each separately, fixing a gnawing tooth under the steel cuirass. The com. plaints of the soldiers were loud; the more delicate barons were silent from pride, which assumes the mien of many a virtue.

"All was in order; every man ranged under the banners of his ward; and they moved as lightly under the weight of their arms as in the burgher frock; both traders and artificers being well trained to break opposing breastplates with the charge of their spears. The Adimari rode through the six wards, preparing for attack and defence; of the other conspirators, each provided for his own district. Even the "The inferior citizens meanwhile were Medici appeared, as if from underground, hunting for victims; but they sought not so stirred partly by shame, partly by the much the pages and courtiers of the mercidesire of vengeance for the fate of Giovanni less duke, as the ministers of his cruelty.— de Medici, sentenced to death a year be- Forgetting in their blind fury that the bargello fore by the duke. Barriers (or minister of the police) with his son Ippowere erected at the end of every street. lito were shut up with the duke, they sought "The duke's soldiers armed hastily at the him in his usual abode; he and Cerrettieri sound of the tumult, and hurried to their Visdomini being the main objects of the popposts. The best marksmen thronged the ular rage. Spreading themselves throughout windows of the palace, the horsemen the p- the city, making every alley, byeway, and azza below. But many were made prison- corner, a mesh of the net designed to entaners on their way thither; one was intoxicat-gle their foes, the people hunted their prey ed; the right foot of another was grappled by the scent, impatient to tear it with their by a boy, whilst the left was already in the stirrup; others were set upon unawares, bound, and stripped of their splendid ar

*

* * *

fangs. Bindo Altoviti surprised a notary, a man well known for cruelty, who, in female apparel, crossing the street like a truant cat, was stealing down the bank to crouch