Let us now proceed to give an account of the piece under consideration. Sforza, Duke of Milan, nourishes an implacable hatred against Foscari, the Doge of Venice, for some insult or injury received by the former from the Doge. His rage transports him so far, that, on discovering an amour carried on between the son of Foscari (then in disguise at his court) and his only daughter Julia, he resolves, without hesitation, to sacrifice his daughter, in order to gratify his desire of vengeance on the detested race of Foscari. He accordingly suffers them to elope together. They go to Venice, where the old Doge is overcome with joy on recovering his son, and consents to his marriage with his enemy's daughter. Sforza, in the meantime, sends ambassadors to Venice, under pretence of being desirous to heal up the breach between the two states, and renew his ancient friendship with Foscari, who willingly embraces his offer, and likewise gives his consent to the marriage of his daughter with Foscari's son. Certain of Sforza's creatures, by his direction, secretly prevail on several of the Venetian senators, by very obvious means, to accuse Ghiacomo (the Doge's son) of treason. support this accusation, a variety of concurring circumstances are brought together by those in Sforza's interest; but the principal circumstance offered is a letter, found in Ghiacomo's chamber, (and which is in reality deposited there by one of the conspirators), importing to be from Sforza, with offers of his daughter's hand, provided that Ghiacomo should assist Sforza in his secret designs against the Venetian state. He is condemned to banishment, whither his wife accompanies him. His father is deposed, and shortly after dies. Το The piece opens with a conference between Sforza and his confident Contarino, in which the latter dis closes the affection which he has discovered to exist between the lovers Julia and Chiacomo. This, together with the scene in which the elopement is planned, and others of minor importance, constitutes the matter of the first act. The second opens with a wild, and Beats for thy blest embrace! how my old frame Struggles with joy, and trembles in its ecstacy! Hark! do I hear them?no, 'tis but the Of passing sentinels. How long they are! And die! But stay, I hear some voices near; Believe me not again.— The banquet scene follows Doge, Good e'en, my lords, and you, most gentle ladies— May mirth and joyous pastime be with This ought to be a glad assembly-'tis From sable masks, like stars in the dark Yes, nearer they approach, and one of I ween they are in danger.— them, Would 'twere Ghiacomo.-Yes,' tis my son. In the third act, the plot advances with rapid strides towards the catastrophe. It contains the embassy from Sforza to Venice-a banquetand a good deal of love. The following account of the festivities on the occasion of the marriage, must have a place among our excerpta : Mar. Where shall I begin To tell you, Signiors? It defies account- tenance Devoid of care, and beaming with de-. light The houses hid with purple, and adorn'd A noble spectacle-the tuneful songs, Complete, will crown the whole.-Then, Appears a lovely sight-even surpassing, scene; And from innumerable shades of light, More beauteous than the arched bow of heav'n, Which shines resplendent.-The music, too, Will waft along the shore, and form a sound Melodious and soft.-And, to conclude, This night a sumptuous banquet will be giv'n To all the Court-where each will vie In elegance and taste-then harmony Vit. (disguised) One cannot stay The effects of the enchantment which per- There is not much truth in the character Hail! lady fair, let your soft crescent shine Jul. Sir, my crescent needs Vit. I am most fortunate, lady, to be With such your approbation. O, bright In pity to the rival moon which silvers One favouring ray, one Jul. Hush, my votary; My rays are cold, and do not shine on love My darts are made to strike the bristling boar; My arrows fly to wound the panting hind; I deal not in the arms which Cupid fashions. Con. Here is the letter, see that thou convey it Into his chamber. Then the day is ours. This bit of paper shall destroy the power Of Foscari's race, and hurl it from its greatness, And make it viler than the vile-be gone! Vit. O let me be but struck by thee This is not a place proper for our con Our next extract is of a high character. It is a violent and energetic burst of feeling, combining pathos with impassioned eloquence. It expresses those sentiments which we imagine a feeling and sensible mind would conceive, and a noble and courageous one embody in the Go-glut yourselves with murder, and rejoice in The fall of an old man of Foscari. The Doge's wishes for his ungrateful country must be given together with the prison scene. Ghi. Restrain yourself, my father; do not cast language of indignation. Let it speak An angry thought on men like these; for itself Which, while a heart can frame a cursea tongue Give utterance to it shall be handed down To ages after ages-to hold up Unspoken-only whisper'd in a breath Shall bear them onwards, till the death of time, Embracing in them every thing of hatred, Disgust and detestation.. "Tis true, that ye are mighty-ye have slain A son and broke a father's heart-that they are Unworthy indignation-they have tri umphed Accomplish'd their great aim-have ba nish'd me; And may I be an offering, to propitiate The private feuds and discords which have rankled So long in Venice! My fate is now as nothing; It is for you, my father, that I grieve; Leaving you desolate, amongst your enemies. Doge. Think not of me, my son--my course is over; A few, a very few days more, and I am gone, And sleep with my forefathers-with a scene before me: And then, when hatred 'gainst me shall have ceas'd, For envy cannot reach the peaceful grave, Some one shall linger at my tomb-and drop A tear for the last Foscari. Enter Julia. Julia. Oh, Ghiacomo ! And do I find thee thus! Ghi. Do not weep, love; You find me in a prison; but I would not Exchange this dungeon for the palaces Of those who doom'd me hither-this coarse food, For all their splendid banquets.-I am innocent, And, in my innocense, have a greater My father, and from thee Julia. And dost thou think That I will stay when thou art gone, Ghiacomo, To carry on existence, loathing life, A Doge no longer, in my life depriv'd Then go with him, my daughter; other lands, To tell the worst Ghi. "Tis rumour'd, noble Doge, That the ungrateful senate have intention To depose their prince. Doge. 'Tis well-go on, Ghiotto, On whom will their fresh choice fall? Pasqual Malipiero will succeed to Doge. He is a worthy nobleman, And will in all things strive to promote the good Of Venice-I am glad—since I shall be No longer Doge--that I shall be succeeded By such a man-Yes, I rejoice for thee, My country! be thou blest when I am gone! My actions have been for thee in my life, And, in my death, receive my wishes— may'st thou Continue, as thou hast been, mighty! be A Queen above the nations! may no dis cord Disturb thy native peace-but, fear'd and honour'd Fear'd by the bad, and honour'd by the virtuous, Still hold on thine uninterrupted course Of glory! loyal subjects fill thy stateSubjects who will love thee, even as I have lov'd thee; But not like me rewarded--Fare thee well, We must now hasten to a conclusion. But the speech of Sforza, when Kinder than that which he hath fought disappointed in his schemes of ambi and bled for, Will give you refuge in a foreign clime. Unknown, unenvied, ye shall spend your days; And whatsoever your fate, an old man's blessing Be with you! Julia. I must go with you, Ghiacomo, But first my heart pants for its native home; I'll visit Milan, if thou wilt consent. Ghi. Thou shall, and I will guard thee thither! tion, and imagining his daughter to be dead, must not be lost. Soaring ambition! Is this the fulfilment Of the high promises with which ye led me To my perdition? Yes, ye promis'd that, Amongst the mighty, I should be the mightiest, And that, when I should be no more, and this Frail earthly form should mingle with the dust From whence it rose, still that a lasting fame, Sprung, like the deathless Phoenix, from my ashes, Should be my everlasting heritage. Accursed Demons! I have follow'd you Through the red paths of slaughterI have been Your slave, that I might reap the glorious harvest Which ye presented to my dazzled view, And now it fades away, like the false wave |