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one of the Christabel,' of which it is a objects which bear the poet aloft on continuation.
seraph's wings, Come we now from the Castle of
“And wake ta ecstally the living lyre." Sir Leoline to the castle of St. Aldo. • The very Dramatis Personce of this brand. The change is so far an advan- performance sufficiently announces to tage to us, that we are no longer un- us what we are to expect, and particuder a necessity to grope in the dark larly the ominous line at the bottoin of for a meaning. Every thing in this the page, “ Knights, Monks, Soldiers, quarter is obvious and palpable enough. Banditti, &c. &c.” recalled to our minds We are still, however, in the school of the alarm which we felt on reading the influence of which we have been Lord Byron's motto to his last redoubta. complaining. Rotten principles and a ble performance, “ Guns, trumpets, bastard sort of sentiment, such, in short, blunderbusses, drums, and thunder.' as have been imported into this coun- The story of this piece is told in a try from German moralists and poets, very few lines. Count Bertram, a noform the interest of this stormy and bleman of Sicily, high in the favour of extravagant composition. The piece his Sovereign, was attached to Imogine, is so much in the taste of Lord Byron, a young lady of comparatively humble that the public have let that nobleman birth, who returned his love with an into a large share of the credit of the equal passion. By a sad reverse, performance. How that may be we consequence of his ambition and rebeldare not say ; but we venture to advise lion, the count is deprived of all his the reverend drainatist, for the sake of fortune and bonours, and banished from the holy and immortal interests con- bis native land. With a band of des: nected with his profession, to withdraw perate followers he continues to keep himself from all connexion with Lord the shores and the state itself in alarm. Byron's tainted muse, and to the great. His great eneiny and fortunate rival, to est distance be possibly can from the whose ascendancy he was forced to circle within which the demons of sen- give way, is St. Aldobrand, a valiant timental profligacy exert their perni- and loyal subject, who, to complete the cious incantations. The best amulet mortification of the disconfited rebel, we can recommend him to use by way obtains the hand of Imogine in the abof security against the influence of these sence of her first lover. The lady'e spells and sorceries, is the frequent, excuse for this breach of constancy is the perpetual perusal of the word of the starving state of a parent, whose God, of which it is his þappy privilege wants she is thus enabled to relieve. to be the organ and expounder. Let Count Bertram, with his desperate him bind it for a sign upon his hand, band of followers, is shipwrecked upon and let it be as å frontlet between his the coast near the monastery of St. eyes, and he may set at nought all the Anselm, and within a little distance of fascinations of depraved poetical ex- the castle of St. Aldobrand. They are amples. In that source of sublimity, received at the monastery with thc hossimplicity, and beauty, will be found pitality usual in such places, and soon a holy standard of moral perfection, a, after a message comes from the fair magnificent display of real grandeur, Imogine to invite the shipwrecked voyatowards which the soul may erect it- gers to the castle of St. Aldobrand, as self in an attitude of correspondent ele- being capable of affording them better vation, and carry its views safely be- accommodation and refreshment than yond the boundaries of material exist- the convent. In the mean time, in a ence into regions of intellectual splen- conversation with the prior of the con: dour, and among those happy inspiring vent, Count Bertram reveals himself; You. 1. no. 1,
and makes a full declaration with all Pray, when thou tell'st thy beads, for one more the bitterness and rage of disappointed
Ber. Stay, gentle lady, I would somewhát passion, and his deadly bate towards
with thee., St. Aldobrand, and determined purpose (Imogine retreats terrified) of destroying bim. He is made ac- (detaining her) — Thou shalt not go
Imo. Shall not !--Who art thou ? speak quainted with the temporary absence Ber. And must I speak? of his enemy, then with the Knights of There was a voice which all the world, but theen St. Anselm. Upon learning this he ex. Might have forgot, and been forgiven.
Imo. My senses blaze--between the dead and presses a horrid joy, considering the
living opportunity is now arrived of satiating I stand in fear-oh God !-it cannot bembis vengeance. He goes to the castle of Those thick black locks—those wild and sun
burnt featuresSt. Aldobrand, where his followers are He looked not thus--but then that voicefeasted.' His interview with Imogine, It cannot be--for he would know my name, and the dire impressions on his mind during the last speech, and when he utters her when the full disclosure of her situation name, shricks and falls into his arms.) is made to him, are exbibited in a scene
Ber. Imogine-yes, of great tragic pathos and terror; and, Thus pale, cold, dying, thus thou art most fit
To be enfolded to this desolate heartin justice to the poet, we will here A blighted lily on its icy bed place it before the reader.
Nay, look not up, 'tis thus I would behold thee,
That pale cheek looks like truth-I'll gaze no Bertram comes to the end of the stage, and stands
That fair, that pale, dear cheek, these helpless without looking at her.
arms, Imo. Stranger, I sent for thee, for that I If I look longer they will make me human. deemed
Imo. (starting from him) Fly, fly, the vassals. Some wound was thine, that yon free band might
of thine enemy wait chafe,
To do thee dead. Perchance thy worldly wealth sunk with yon
Ber. Then let them wield the thunder, wreck;
Fell is their dint, who're mailed in despair. Such wound my gold can heal—the castle's al- Let mortal might sever the grasp of Bertram.
Imo. Release me-I must break from him-he Bcr. The wealth of worlds were heaped on
Ber. Imogiae---madness seizes me-
What dost thou in the halls of Aldobrand ! Or brother, loved as thine own soul, lies there "I pity thee, sad man, but can no more."
Infernal light doth shoot athwart my mind Gold I can give, but can no comfort give,
Swear thou art a dependent on his bounty, For I am comfortless
That chance, or force, or sorcery brought thee
thither; “Yet if I could collect my faltering breath « Well were I meet for such sad ministry,
Thou canst not be-my throat is swoln with For grief hath left my voice no other sound"
Hell hath no plague-Oh no, thou couldst not Ber. (striking his heart) No dews give fresh
do it. ness to this blasted soil
Imo. "(kneeling)” Mercy. Imo. Strange is thy form, but more thy words Ber. Thou hast it not, or thou wouldst speakare strange
Speak, speak---(with frantic violence) Fearful it seems to hold this parley with thee. Imo. I am the wife of Aldobrand, Tell me thy race and country
To save a famishing father did I wed. Ber. What avails it?
Ber. I will not curse her---but the hoarded ven. The wretched have no country: that dear name
gealiceComprises home, kind kindred, fostering friends, Imo. Aye---curge, and consummate the horrid Protecting laws, all that binds man to man
spell, But none of these are mine ;-I have no country. For broken-hearted, in despairing hour, And for my race, the last dread trump shall wake with every omen dark and dire i weddedThe sheeted relics of mine ancestry,
Some ministering demon mocked the robed priest, Ere trump of herald to the armed lists
With soine dark spell, not holy vow, they bound In the bright blazon of their stainless coat, Calls their lost child again-
Full were the rites of horror and despair. Imo. I shake to hear him
They wanted but-the seal of Bertram's curse. There is an awful thrilling in his voice
Ber. (not heeding her) ---Talk of her father “ The soul of other days comes rushing in them."
could a father love thee If nor my bounty nor my tears can aid thee, As I have loved ? "the veriest wretch on Stranger, farewell; and 'mid thy misery
*** Doth cherish in some corner of his heart Bertram extorts a promise from Imo. “Some thought that makes that heart a sanctuary gine to meet him under the castle walls, “For pilgrim dreams in midnight-hour to visit, “And weep and worship there.
and yield bim an hour's intercourse. " —And such thou wert to me and thou art The appointment is kept, and in a
lost. 1- What was a father? could a father's love
wretched moment the stain of guilt is “ Compare with mine?" in want, and war, and added to the sorrows of the unhappy peril,
wife. Immediately after the parting, Things that would thrill the hearer's blood to Bertram hears that Lord Aldobrand had
tell of, My heart grew human when I thought of thee- received a commission from his soveImogine would have shuddered for my danger- reign to hunt down the outlawed BerImnogine would have bound my leechless wounds
tram. Imogine would have sought my nameless corse,
From this moment he forms an And known it well—and she was wedded—wed. inexorable determination to murder (for ded--.
whatever gloss is given to the act, in Was there no name in hell's dark catalogue
reference to the manner, place, and To brand thee with, but mine immortal foe'sAnd did I'scape from war, and want, and famine, time of doing it, no other name could To perish b; the falsehood of a woman? properly describe it) bis devoted eneImo. Oh spare me, Bertram ; oh preserve thy
is declared to Ber. A despot's vengeance, a false country's the wretched wife, whose pitiable and curses,
mad despair, on being unable to move The spurn of menials whom this hand had fed--
him from his purpose, is certainly a In my heart's steeled pride I shook them off, As the bayed lion from his hurtless hide most distressing picture of female anShakes his pursuer's darts---across their path- guish. The murder is committed ; and One dart alone took aim, thy hand did bard it. Imo. He did not hear my father's cry--Oh all that succeeds is the utter misery, heaven.-.
madness, and death of Imogine, and Nor food, nor fire, nor raiment, and his child the death of the Count by his own Knelt madly to the hungry walls for succour
hands. E'er her wrought brain could bear the horrid thought,
• That there is much deep distress in Or wed with him---r---see thy father perish. Ber. Thou tremblest lest I curse thee ; tremble rable force in the expression of feeling
the story of this tragedy, very consideThough thou hast made me, woman, very and passion, and both vigour and beauwretched
ty in the imagery and diction, we are Though thou hast made me---but I will not curse thee
very ready to admit; but in dignity, Hear the last prayer of Bertram's broken heart, propriety, consistency, and contrast, in That heart which thou hast broken, not his the finer movements of virtuous tender
foes! Of thy rank wishes the full scope be on thee...
ness, the delicacies of female sensibi. May pomp and pride shout in thine addered path lity, the conflict of struggling emotions, Till thou shalt feel and sicken at their hollow- heroical elevation of sentiment, and moMay he thou'st wed, be kind and generous to thee, ral sublimity of action, this play is ex. Till thy wrung heart, stabb'd by his noble fond. tremely deficient. The hero is that ness,
same mischievous compound of attracWrithe in detesting consciousness of falsehood... May thy babe's smile speak daggers to that mo
tiveness and turpitude, of love and ther
crime, of chivalry and brutality, which Who cannot love the father of her child,
in the poems of Lord Byron and his And in the bright blaze of the festal hall, When vassals kneel, and kindred smile around imitators has been too long successful thee,
in captivating weak fancies and putMay ruined Bertram's pledge hiss in thine raging moral truth. Let but your hero
be well-favoured, wo-begone, mysteJoy to the proud dame of St. Aldrobrand... While his cold corse doth bleach beneath her rious, desperately brave, and, above
(Bertram, p. 25-.-30. all, desperately in love, and the inter. At the next meeting of this luckless est of the female reader is too apt to be pair, which is at the convent of St. secured in his behalf, however bloody, Aaseln, after much painful conflict, dark, and revengeful, however bestile
towards God and man, be may display fatigue of a journey. All this he rehimself in his principles and actions. The solves, and the deed is done, without whole theory and secret of this poeti- any tender visitings of nature, and with cal philosophy is amusingly detailed in less compunction or conflict in his bothe epilogue to the piece, from which, som than Milton's devil expressed on small as is our general esteem for these the eve of destroying the felicity of literary performances, we must, for the Paradise. And yet, says the epilogue, sake of the profound ethical maxims it in apology for all this, contains, exhibit an extract to the “ Bertram! ye cry, a ruthless blood-stain'd reader.
He was but also was the truest lover! “Enough for Imogine the tears ye gave her; I come to say one word in Bertram's favour- • We will present to our readers the Bertram! ye cry, a ruthless blood-stain'd rover! scene which takes place between the but also was the truest lover:
lovers after that act of shame by which And, faith! like cases that we daily view, , Ali might have prosper'd had the fair been true.
the mother, wise, and woman, were for "Man, while he loves, is never quite deprav'd, ever lost. And woman's triumph, is a lover sav'd.
Enter BERTRAM. The branded wretch, whose callous feelings court
" It is a crime in me to look on thee Crime for his glory, and disgrace for sport; But in whate'er I do there now is crime If in his breast love claims the smallest part, Yet wretched thought still struggles for thy If still he values one fond female heart,
safetyFrom that one seed, that lingåring spark, may Fly, while my lips without a crime may ward grow
thee Pride's noblest flow'r, and virtue': purest glow : Would thou hadst never come, or sooner parted.. Let but that heart-dear female lead with care Oh God-- he heeds me not: To honour's path, and cheer his progress there, Why comest thou thus ?" what is thy fearful busiAnd proud, though haply sad regret occurs
ness? At all his guilt, think all his virtue herg." I know mou comest for evil, but its purport
(Epilogue, p. 31. I ask my heart in vain.”
Ber. « Guess it, and spare me." (a long pause, • The cardinal crime on which the during which she gazes at him.) story turns is the fatal act of infidelity Canst thou not read it in my face? committed under the walls of the castle Mixt shades of evil thought are darkening of Aldobrand. And this crime is pro
there; posed and assented to by the contract. But what my fears do indistinctly guess
Would blast me to behold- (turns away, a ing parties, in a manner as little con
pause)" sistent with common modesty in wo- Ber. Dost thou not hear it in my very silence ? man, and common generosity in man, as
" That which no voice can tell, doth tell itself. can well be imagined. But if that which
Imo. My harassed thought hath not one point
of fear, ought most to soften a inan towards the Save that it must not think.” sufferings of a woman be the conscious- Ber. (throwing his dagger “on the ground") ness that he himself has been the cause Show me the chamber where thy husband lies,
Speak thou for me, of it, then is this Bertram one of the The morning must not see us both alive. worst specimens of a man and a soldier Imo. (screaming and struggling with him)
Ab! horror! horror!
off-withstand me that we have yet encountered in the
not, course of our experience. After crop- "I will arouse the castle, rouse the dead, ping this fair flower, he treads it under To save my husband ; villain, murderer, monfoot, and scatters in the dust its blasted Dare the bayed lioness, but fly from me.
ster, beauty. With ruthless delight, and de- " Ber. Go, wake the castle with thy frantic moniac malice, he spurns the soft and
cries : melting prayers in her husband's behalf, Yea, pour it on thine husband's blasted ear.
Those cries that tell my secret, blazon thine. whom he resolves to murder in his own “ Imo. Perchance his wrath may kill me in its mansion, in the presence or hearing of
mercy. his wife and child, and, as it seems,
“ Ber. No, hope not such a fate of mercy from. while he rests on his couch after the He'll curse thee with his pardon,
" And would his death-fixed eye be terrible “ Wouldst have him butchered by their rufkan “ As its ray bent in love on her that wronged him?
hands * And would his dying groan affright thine ear
" That wait iny bidding ? “ Like words of peace spoke to thy guilt-in vain? “ Imo (falling on the ground.) ---Fell and hor. “ Imo. I care not, I am reckless, let me perish.
rible “ Ber. No, thou must live amidst a hissing “ I'm sealed, shut down in ransomless perdition. world,
“ Ber. Fear not, my vengeance will not yield " A thing that mothers warn their daughters from, “A thing the menials that do tend thee scorn. “ He shall fall nobly, by my hand shall fall. " Whom when the good do name, they tell their “ But still and dark the summons of his fate, beads,
“So winds the coiled serpent round his victim. * And when the wicked think of, they do triumpb; • Ml as the lady Imogine was used + Canst thou encounter this?
Imo. I must encounter it-I have deserved it; by her sanguinary and brutal lover, we ? Begone, or my next cry shall wake the dead. cannot say that her own character is “ Ber. Hear me.
such as to entitle her to much respect. “ Imo. No parley, tempter; fiend, avaunt. “Ber. Thy son.-- (she stands stupéfied.) Go, The author has endeavoured in a very
take him trembling in thy hand of shame, lame manner to support her constancy " A victim to the shrine of public scorn
by the pretext, not a very new one, and " Poor boy ! his sire's worst foe mig pity hime in the present instance clumsily enough • Albeit his mother will not“ Banished from noble halls, and knightly con- inserted, of a starving parent whose life verse,
was saved by the sacrifice; and after “ Devouring his young heart in loneliness
this first sacrifice to convenience or exi“ With bitter thought-my mother wasma wretch.
gency, not unlike those which, in the Imo. (falling at his feet) “I am a wretch, coarse arrangements of ordinary life, but who hath made me so ?
of their “. I'm writhing like a worm beneath thy spurn." parents are apt to require Hlave pity on me, I have had inuch wrong.
daughters, and daughters are apt very Ber. My heart is as the steel within thy grasp. cheerfully to submit to, she makes “ Imo. (still kneeling) Thou hast cast me down from light,
another voluntary sacrifice of her honour, + From my high sphere of purity and peace, her husband, and her child, to anotber “Where once I walked in mine uprightness, sort of convenience or exigency which
blessed "Do not thou cast me into utter darkness."
is created by tbe urgency of nature or Ber. (looking on her with pity for a moment) the stress of passion. The events are Thou fairest flower
of ordinary occurrence and of ephemeWhy didst thou fling thyself across my path, My tiger spring must crush thee in its way,
ral frequency in vicious society; and But cannot pause to pity thee.
though the author has raised them to Imo. Thou must, “For I am strong in woes"-I ne'er reproached and describing them, and the vivacious
tragic dignity by his manner of telling thee “I plead but with my agonies and tears~"
touches of a very glowing pencil, yet Kind, gentle Bertram, my beloved Bertram, the real substratum of the tale is one of For thou wert gentle once, and once beloved, Have mercy on me -Oh, thou couldst not think it-- those turbulent triumphs of passion over (looking up, and seeing no relenting in his face, duty, which mar the peace of families
she starts up wildly). By heaven and all its host," he shall not perish. Commons.
and make the practicers in Doctors' Ber. “By hell and all its host," he shall not live.
• That this murderous fellow of a count “This is no transient Jash of fugitive passion is meant to engage our admiration and “ His death hath been my life for years of misery interest our sympathies, is but too ap; ** Which else I had not lived “Upon that thought, and not on food, I fed; parent. After Bertram has revealed “ Upon that thought, and not on sleep, 1 rested to the Prior his bloody trade as the lead. "I come to do the deed that must be done “ Nor thou, nor sheltering angels could prevent
a banditti, and his yet more hor
rible purposes, the holy man, as he is Imo.“ But man shall, miscreant"-help! called, thus addresses him :
Ber. Thou callest in vain
Prior. High-hearted man, sublime even in thy
guilc. Following St. Anselm's votarists to the con. And again, after the borrible murder,
Vent My band of blood are darkening in theit halls whicla certainly bad as little sablimity