This tragedy is essentially different from the other dramas of Alfieri. It is conceived in the spirit of Shakspeare, and not of the French drama. It is not a conflict between passion and duty, which furnishes the plot of this tragedy. We here find a representation of a noble character, suffering under those weaknesses which sometimes accompany the greatest virtues, and governed by the fatality not of destiny, but of human nature. There is scarcely any action in this piece. Saul perishes, the victim, not of his passions, not of his crimes, but of his remorse, augmented by the terror which a gloomy imagination has cast over his soul. He is the first heroic madman, who, if my memory be correct, has been introduced into the classical drama; while in the romantic theatre, Shakspeare and his followers have delineated with terrible truth this moral death, more shocking than our natural dissolution; this melancholy catastrophe in the drama of real life, which, though ennobled by the rank of its victim, is yet not confined to any one class, and, though exhibited to our eyes in the person of a king, menaces us all alike.

At the same time with Saul, appeared the eight last tragedies of Alfieri. In Mary Stuart, the scene is laid, not at the melancholy termination of her long captivity, but at the period when she entered into the conspiracy with Bothwell against her husband, and tarnished her

fame with the blood of the unfortunate Darnley. The conspiracy of the Pazzi in 1478 to restore liberty to Florence, is the subject of the second of these tragedies. The catastrophe is striking, and the situation of Bianca, the sister of the Medici and the wife of one of the Pazzi, distracted between her affection for her brothers and her husband, forms the chief interest of the drama. Don Garcia is a second tragedy drawn from the history of the Medici, after that ambitious family had gained possession of the sovereign power. Don Garcia, one of the sons of Cosmo I. was the instrument of the terrible vengeance of his father; by whose order he slew, with his own hand and in the obscurity of night, his brother whom he did not know, and was himself, in his turn, put to death by the tyrant. The fourth tragedy is Agis, king of Sparta, whom the Ephori put to death for attempting to augment the privileges of the people, and to place bounds to the power of the aristocracy. The plot of Sophonisba is the story of the mistress of Massinissa, who killed herself to avoid being led to Rome in triumph. The next tragedy is the Elder Brutus, who judged his own sons. The next, Myrrha, who died the victim of her sinful passions. The last of these dramas is founded on the story of the younger Brutus, the assassin of Cæsar. Amongst these latter tragedies we shall find Mary Stuart, the conspiracy of the Pazzi,

and the two Brutuses most worthy of our study and attention. We have already expended so much time on the theatre of Alfieri, that we cannot afford to give any more analyses; but we must not quit so celebrated an author without saying a few words upon his other works.

Previously to so doing, however, we shall, in order to terminate our history of the Italian Theatre, give some account of those tragedians who, succeeding Alfieri, took that great man for their model, and who share at this moment the Italian stage in common with him. The first of these is Vincenzio Monti of Ferrara, of whom we shall again speak in the next chapter, when we come to mention his epic compositions. His Aristodemo is one of the most affecting of all the Italian tragedies. This Messenian, who, to gain the suffrages of his fellow-citizens, and to attain the regal power, has voluntarily offered up his daughter as a sacrifice to the Gods, appears upon the stage, fifteen years after the commission of this crime, devoured with remorse at having outraged nature to serve his ambition. The union of this remorse with the heroism which he displays, in his public capacity, and with his affection towards another daughter, who has been long lost to him, and whom he believes to be a Spartan captive, affords ample opportunity for fine acting, and for producing strong emotion; but, in truth, there is very little action in the drama, which is filled with negotiations with the envoy of Sparta, entirely

foreign to the passions of the hero of the piece; and when at the conclusion he kills himself, his death is caused rather by his fifteen years of remorse, than by any thing which passes in the five acts of the tragedy. Yet we recognize the school of Alfieri in the loftiness of the characters, in the energy of the sentiments, in the simplicity of the action so devoid of incident, in the absence of all foreign pomp, and in the interest sustained without the assistance of love. We likewise remark the peculiar talent of Monti, in which he excelled Alfieri; his harmony, his elegance, and his poetical language, which, while they charm our minds, never fail to delight our ear.

Monti has written another tragedy, entitled Galeotto Manfredi; the subject of which is drawn from the Italian chronicles of the fifteenth century; a period so fertile in tyrants and in crimes. This Prince of Faenza, the victim of his wife's jealousy, was assassinated by her order and under her own eyes. In this drama, likewise, Monti approaches Alfieri in the nakedness of the action, in the energy of the characters, and in the eloquence of the sentiments. He has adhered but too closely to his model in his neglect of all local colouring. This national tragedy would possess many more charms, did it but present a lively picture to the spectators of the Italians of the middle age.*

As a specimen of the talents of Monti, I have selected the scene in which Zambrino excites Matilda to assassinate her.

Some less celebrated authors also have profited by the precepts and the models which Alfieri be

husband. The situation resembles that of Ægisthus and Clytemnestra, in the drama of Alfieri.

Ogni colloquio il crudo, (Manfredi) e so ben io
Perchè lo vieta; accusator ti teme

De' tradimenti suoi, l'infame tresca

Tenermi occulta per tal modo, ei pensa.

ZAMB.

MATILD.

Che tu mel noti? Si; me sola intende
Il tiranno oltraggiar, quando mi priva
Dell' unico fedel, che raddolcirmi

Solea le pene, ed asciugarmi il pianto :
Ma ne sparsi abbastanza; or d'ira, in seno
Il cor cangiommi; ed ei con gli occhi ha rotta
Corrispondenza.

Ah! Principessa, il cielo
M'è testimon, che mi sgomenta solo
De' tuoi mali il pensiero; in me si sfoghi
Come più vuol Manfredi, e mi punisca
D'aver svelato alla tradita moglie
La nuova infedeltà; sommo delitto
Che sommo traditor mai non perdona.
Di tè duolmi infelice. Alla mia mente,
Funesto e truce, un avvenir s'affaccia
Che fa tremarmi il cuor sul tuo destino.
Tu del consorte, tu per sempre, O donna,
Hai perduto l'amor.

Ma non perduta
La mia vendetta; ed io l'avrò; pagarla
Dovessi a prezzo d'anima e di sangue ;
Si, compita l'avrò.