say to my child-'Your mother thought to escape shame by death... and she died in the arms of the man who had dishonoured her'-and if my poor girl say, 'No,' they will lift up the stone that covers our grave, and say, "There, see them!" ANTONY. Oh! we are indeed damned, neither to live nor die! ADELE. Yes, yes. I ought to die-I alone-thou seest itGo then, in the name of heaven-go! ANTONY. And Go!... quit thee! ... when he comes. . to have had thee, and to have lost thee! . . . hell! were he not to kill thee . . . were he to pardon thee. . . To have been guilty of rape, violence, adultery—to have possessed thee and can I hesitate at a new crime, that is, to keep thee?-What! lose my soul for so little! Satan would laugh. Thou art foolish. No, no! Thou art mine as man is misfortune's (seizing her in his arms). Thou must live for me. . . . I carry thee away.-Evil be on the head of him who would prevent me! Oh! oh! ADELE. ANTONY. Cries, tears, it matters not ! ADELE. My daughter! my daughter! ANTONY. She's a child, and will laugh to-morrow. (They are just on the point of going out, when a dou ble knock is heard at the street door.) ADELE (bursting from Antony's arms). Oh! it's he. . . . Oh! my God! my God! Have pity on me! Pardon, pardon! ANTONY. Come, it is over now! ADELE. Somebody's coming up stairs . . . somebody rings[It must be remembered this is a French house, and the knock was at the outer door]-It's my husband-fly, fly! ANTONY (fastening the door). Not I-I fly not . . . Listen!. You said just now that you did not fear death. A death that would save thy reputation, that of thy child? ADELE. I'll beg for it on my knees. (A voice from without: "Open, open! break open the door!") ANTONY. And in thy last breath thou wilt not curse thy assassin ?— Fear nothing! death shall be here before any one. But reflect on it well-death! ADELE. I beg it-wish it-implore it (throwing herself into his arms)-I come to seek it. ANTONY (kissing her). Well then, die ! Ah! (He stabs her with a poniard.) ADELE (falling into a fauteuil). (At the same moment the door is forced open, Col. d' Hervey rushes on the stage.) SCENE IV. Col. d'Hervey, Antony, Adèle, and different Servants. COL. D'HERVEY. Wretch !-What do I see?—Adèle ! ANTONY. Dead, yes, dead!-she resisted me, and I assassinated her. (He throws his dagger at the Colonel's feet.) CHAPTER V. The merits of M. Dumas-" Angèle”—“ Darlington" -"Terésa"- "Tour de Nesle"-Description of the effect produced by "Tour de Nesle."-The characters of a time should be in the character of the time -M. Dumas dresses up the nineteenth century in a livery of heroism, turned up with assassination and incest. THERE is enough, I think, even in the short and imperfect translation I have just given from Antony, to show considerable energy and talent, and that kind of passion and movement which hurries away an audience. Indeed, the productions of M. Dumas, which lose much of their effect in reading, afford, in acting, a thousand proofs of this author's having taken every pains to study and to succeed in the arts of the stage. There is a line in 'Angèle,' wonderful in its exemplification of his knowledge and his study of these arts. Angèle,* a young lady, unhappily seduced, is * Angèle is a young lady, seduced by an adventurer who intends marrying her on a speculation, but, on finding the mother a better affair, he engages himself to her. Angèle, however, after being confined, (which she the desirous of confessing her misfortune to her mother she says she has something to say mother inquires tenderly what it is—Angèle weeps the mother takes her hand, endeavours to soothe and encourage her; Angèle still weeps. "Is it something so very bad then?" says the mother, not suspecting her daughter's innocence. The daughter fixes her eyes upon her mother, sobs, struggles to speak the audience is all attention. But how make the confession? "Ah, si j'avais mon enfant, je le mettrais à vos pieds.” A more enthusiastic burst than followed this exclamation (I saw the piece the first night of the representation) it is impossible to describe.* is, one may say, on the stage,) confesses the story to her mamma just before the marriage takes place. D'Alvimar, the adventurer, is for making off, but is stopped by a Doctor Muller, a young physician, who, having long loved Angèle, had accidentally delivered her of her child, and now delivers her of her falsehearted lover, whom (by a most unmedical mode of destruction) he shoots-then marries Angèle, adopts her child, and (in order to make her quite happy and comfortable, I suppose) assures her he must die within the year of a pulmonary complaint. * I remember another instance, in the "Tour de Nesle:" immediately after the murder of Philippe Daulnay and all the abominations of Margue |