resemble each other still more in the author's obstinate attachment to his system; in the stiffness of the action, in the bitterness of the sentiments, and in the baldness both of the action and the poetry. In the last of these dramas the attachment of Alfieri to the laws of unity has led him into a strange error. The murder of Virginia by her father arouses the people, and at the same time enrages Appius Claudius. The people cry to arms, and exclaim: " Appius is a tyrant-let him perish!" Alfieri, thinking that his tragedy, being entitled Virginia, necessarily terminated with the death of his heroine, lets the curtain drop upon the people and the lictors in the midst of the conflict, so that the audience is ignorant of the result, and whether Appius or the people triumph. To leave any action unfinished at the conclusion of a drama is a gross violation of the unity; for it induces every one to believe that such action was totally independent of the unity. The rigorous notions which compelled the author to let the curtain fall exactly ten lines after the death of Virgina are still more out of place, when we consider that Appius is almost as important a personage as she, and that his danger and destruction, by which Virginia is avenged, and her death is justified, complete the essential action of the poem.

Amongst the tragedies of Alfieri, of the second period, we shall select the Agamemnon, in order to give some idea of a Greek drama of four characters, the interest of which does not arise from political events. The scene, which is laid in the palace of Argos, opens with a very beautiful soliloquy of Ægisthus, who imagines himself pursued by the shade of Thyestes, demanding vengeance. This he promises. Born in shame, the offspring of infamy and incest, he believes himself called upon by destiny to commit the crime. Hour after hour he awaits the return of the conqueror of Troy, and he promises the shade of his father to immolate him and his family. Clytemnestra seeks him, wishing to divert those painful thoughts which are so plainly depicted on his countenance. Ægisthus only speaks to her of his approaching departure, and of the necessity of avoiding the sight of the son of Atreus, the enemy of his race. He can bear neither his anger nor his contempt, and to the one or the other he is sensible that he must be exposed. He thus wounds the pride

which Clytemnestra feels in the object of her love, and excites and directs against Agamemnon the irritation of his delirious spouse. Clytemnestra at last beholds in Agamemnon only the murderer of Iphigenia. She calls to mind with bitterness that horrible sacrifice, and trembles at the name of such a father. All her affections are concentrated in Ægisthus and her children, and she loves to think that Ægisthus will be a more tender father than Agamemnon to Electra and to Orestes. Electra approaches, and Clytemnestra, in order to speak with her, prevails upon Ægisthus to leave them.

Electra relates the various reports which have spread through Argos, respecting the Grecian fleet. Some assert that contrary winds have driven it back to the mouth of the Bosphorus; others, that it has been shipwrecked on the rocks; while others again believe that they see the sails near the shores. Clytemnestra demands, with sarcastic bitterness, whether the gods wish that another of her children should be sacrificed for the return of Agamemnon, even as one perished on his departure. The character of Electra is admirable throughout. All her speeches are full of tenderness, respect, and devotion to her father, and of affection and deep pity for her mother's aberration. She hints to her cautiously and sorrowfully that she is aware of her fresh dislike to Agamemnon, and that the Court and the public, as well as herself, are acquainted with the cause of it.

Beloved mother,

What art thou doing? I do not believe
That a flagitious passion fires thy breast.
Involuntary fondness, sprung from pity,
Which youth, especially when 'tis unhappy,
Is apt to inspire, these, mother, are the baits
By which, without thyself suspecting it,
Thou hast been caught. Thou hast not hitherto
Each secret impulse rigorously examined:

* O amata madre,

Che fai? Non credo io, no, che ardente fiamma
Il cor ti avvampi; involontario affetto

Misto a pietà, che giovinezza inspira
Quando infelice ell' è, son questi gli ami,
A cui, senza avvedertene, sei presa.
Di te, finor, chiesto non hai severa
Ragione a té; di sua virtù non cade
Sospetto in cor conscio a se stesso; e forse

Loco

A bosom conscious of its rectitude
Hardly admits suspicion of itself;

And here, perchance, there is no ground for it;
Perchance thy fame thou yet hast scarcely sullied,
Much less thy virtue, and there still is time
To make atonement with one easy step.-
Ah! by the sacred shade, so dear to thee,
Of thy devoted daughter; by that love
Which thou hast ever shewn and felt for me-
That love of which to day I am not unworthy;
How can I more persuasively adjure thee?
By thy son's life, Orestes' life, I pray thee
Pause on the brink of this tremendous gulf;
Beloved mother, pause. Afar from Argos
Banish Ægisthus: stop malignant tongues
By thy deportment: with thy children weep
The hardships of Atrides, and frequent

With them the sacred temples of the Gods
To implore his swift return.--

Clytemnestra is moved; she weeps, she accuses herself, and she likewise accuses the blood of Leda which runs through her veins; and the momentary flash of truth which passes across her mind, whilst it fails to convince her, fills her with terror.

At the beginning of the second act Ægisthus and Clytemnestra dispute upon the steps most expedient to be taken. The ships of Agamemnon now enter the port. He lands and advances towards the palace, upon which Ægisthus proposes to make his escape; but Clytemnestra, mad with love, will listen to no advice, nor see any danger. If prudence bids her hasten the flight of her lover, it is her part, she says, to fly with him, like Helen. Ægisthus, who beseeches her to suffer him to depart, endeavours, by the apprehension

Loco non ha forse offendesti a pena

Non il tuo onor, ma, del tuo onor la fama.
E in tempo sei, ch' ogni tuo lieve cenno
Sublime ammenda esser ne può. Per l'ombra
Sacra, a te cara, della uccisa figlia;

Per quell' amor che a me portasti, ond' io
Oggi indegna non son; che più? Ten priego
Per la vita d'Oreste; O madre, arretra,
Arretra il piè dal precipizio orrendo.
Lunge dà noi codesto Egisto vada :
Fà che di tè si taccia: in un con noi
Piangi d'Atride i casi ai templi vieni
Il suo ritorno ad implorar dai numi.

of his absence, to add fuel to her love and jealousy. He, in fact, wishes to be prevented from going, and Clytemnestra begs him to remain a single day, exacting an oath from him that he will not quit the walls of Argos before the ensuing dawn. He consents, and Electra appearing, begs her mother to fly to the king. Clytemnestra, instead of answering her daughter, solemnly requests Ægisthus to repeat his oath; and this appeal, which she again makes at the end of the scene, after Electra has manifested her aversion for Ægisthus, and the dread with which his stay inspires her, fully displays all Clytemnestra's passion, and makes the spectators shudder. Ægisthus, being left alone, rejoices that his victims have at length fallen into his snares, and again promises the shade of Thyestes to avenge upon Agamemnon and his children the execrable repast of Atreus. He at length retires on beholding the approach of Agamemnon, accompanied by Electra and Clytemnestra, and surrounded by the soldiers and the people.

Alfieri has skilfully delineated in Agamemnon the tender feelings of a good king returning to his people, of a patriot restored to his country, and of a kind father again embracing his family:

At last I see the wished-for walls of Argos:
This ground which now I tread is the loved spot
Where once I wandered with my infant feet.
All that I see around me are my friends;-
My wife, my daughter, and my faithful people,
And you, ye household gods, whom I at last
Return to worship. What have I to wish?
What does there now remain for me to hope?
How long and tedious do ten years appear
Spent in a foreign country, far from all

The heart holds dear! With what profound delight,*

* Riveggio al fin le sospirate mura

D'Argo mia quel ch'io premo, è il suolo amato,

Che nascendo calcai: quanti al mio fianco

Veggo, amici mi son; figlia, consorte,

Popol mio fido, e voi, Penati Dei,

Cui finalmente ad adorar pur torno.

Che più bramar, che diù sperare omai

Mi resta, o lice? Oh come lunghi, e gravi
Son due lustri vissuti in strania terra

Lungi da quanto s' ama! Oh quanto è dolce
Ripatriar, dopo gli affanni tanti

After the labours of a bloody war,

Shall I repose? Oh home, beloved asylum,
Where peace alone awaits us, with what joy
Thee I revisit! But am I, alas!

The only one that tastes of comfort here?
My wife, my daughter! silently ye stand
Fixing upon the ground unquietly

Your conscious eyes. O heaven, do ye not feel
A joy that equals mine in being thus

Restored to my embrace?

Clytemnestra is agitated, and Electra is in fear for her; but her presence of mind is restored by the very sound of her own voice; and as she proceeds her answers become more intelligible. Agamemnon himself alludes to the misfortune which has deprived him of his other daughter, and which he regards as a divine ordinance to which his paternal heart is yet unable to bow.

Oft in my helmet bonneted I wept

In silence: but, except the father, none
Were conscious of these tears.*

He

He enquires for Orestes, and longs to embrace him. asks whether he has yet entered upon the paths of virtue; and whether, when he hears of glorious achievements, or beholds a brandished sword, his eyes do not sparkle with ardour.

Agamemnon and Electra appear at the commencement of the third act; and the king enquires from his daughter what is the cause of the singular change which he has remarked in Clytemnestra. He is less surprised at her first silence than at the studied and constrained manner in which she afterwards addressed him. Electra, compelled to give some reason for this change, attributes it to the sacrifice of Iphigenia, and thus gives Agamemnon an opportunity of