An ESSAY on the ITALIAN DRAMA. Sol del perdono, anzi che a morte io corra [Concluded from Vol. 1x. p. 487.] Tibconguiro. I Sta ben; mi arrendo Fol lo moro; e a te perdono. think must appear in the same light To me this appears shocking, and to any audience of common sensibility. T is in vain we look in this piece Vieni dunque, O fratello, infra le braccia racter and tender and pathetic senti- Vieni,-e ricevi in quest' ultimo amplesso ments with which the play of Euri- Fratel,-da me-la merilata morte pides abounds, or even for the spi- (Fingendo abbravailo con uno stile lo rited dialogue of schylus. Eteocles Son vendicate-lo moro; trafigge) is drawn, throughout, unfeeling and E ancor ti abono. unnatural, with none of those alleviating circumstances that, in Euripides, throw a veil over his iniquity, and plead so strongly in his favour. In the latter we see a young mind giving way to the powerful suggestions of ambition, and keenly alive to stage, and one might naturally expect Giocasta scarcely ever leaves the the honour of his native land, whose the highest pathos from a mother in reputation would suffer, were he to her situation. She is continually, inyield to his brother at the head of a deed, dwelling upon the misfortunes foreign force. He entertains, how- of her house, and of the horrid enorever, no unnatural sentiments against mities she had witnessed, and was his brother, and his enmity extends still doomed to witness; but by no not beyond the collision of their natural expression of sentiment has interests. How glowingly is his am- the poet contrived to interest us in bition pourtrayed by the Grecian her behalf. The following extract, bard: Αέραν ανελθοιμ' ήλιε προς ανατολας, E. wig yas Χρεων. however, is highly pathetic:-Eteocles has just been brought before ber mortally wounded; and the sight of Polinices, the author of the deed, naturally causes her indignation. Polinices tells her that he did not wish to return to her presence in life, so great an abhorrence did he entertain for the deed he had committed, but In Alfieri, the hatred Eteocles bears that he had been disarmed and preto Polinices is so strong and so unna- vented from turning his own weapon tural, that, after having in vain at- against himself, and brought there tempted his life, and having received against his will.-She thus interrupts himself a mortal blow in the struggle, while Polinices deplores with all the sincerity of repentant grief the cruel necessity which occasioned the fatal deed, and solicits from his dying brother a farewel embrace, he, with monstrous perfidy, invites him to his arms, at the same moment plunges a dagger in his bosom, and dies exulting in the final triumph of his perfidy. I shall extract the passage: Pol. Il tuo seggio Mai non terrò, di nuovo io'l guiro; ah! scendi Placato a Stige. Andrai del regio serto him: Ah! cessa omai D'Intorbidar nostri ultimi momenti→→ Quella che al sen ti stringe? è la tua Eteocle; non m'odi Oh!-non ravvisi Et è il suo caldo lagrimat, che misto The following passage in the mouth of Giocasta is of the highest sublime. She utters it when both her sons are extended dead at her feet, and when her mind was worked up to the highest state of frenzy : Di morte i negri Regni profondi spalanearsi io veggio A me tu sporgi? a scellerata moglie?→→→ B Piaga ti fe? Chi fu quell' empio?-Edippo Fu; quel tuo figlio, che in tuo letto accolsi Fumante ancor del tuo versato sangue. The language is in many places of this play worse than prosaic, it is harsh and grating: "Ma mel vieta L'odio, che mal di un sol colpo fia pago- Ma, chi altronde mi appella? Un fragor Brama, che in petto da che nacqui io nu odu, Che inorridir fa Dite: ecco di brandi Che urcestus'so a tai mostri diè vita. In this play the cup of horrors is filled to the very brim. The unnatural connection between Edippus and his mother is dwelt upon, is repeated again and again to a degree of nausea. A selection of instances is almost unnecessary. L'incesto die;" "A te purvila D'Edippo io moglie, e in un di Edippo madre, Inorridir di madre al nome io soglio." "Che più? mi udranno, Se mi vi sforzan pur, lo infame loro Nascimento attestar." "Son vortro Sangue anch' io Eccolo il ventre infame Stanza d'infame nascimento." "Mai non t'avessio avuto, onor funesto? tro." "Andartie Bench' esul debba is dalla patria, sempre." Potrebbe il re per non serbar sua fede." Cui vien meno ogni ammenda, il tuo pad- I cannot omit this opportunity of rendering justice to my native language, by asserting the superiority which it possesses in point of harmony over the Italian. Let any man compare the rich and manly harmony of sciolti for a moment, and he must be our blank verse with the Italian versi sensible of it. The cloying effect of words, ending in vowels and begining in vowels meeting together, can never be sufficiently got the better of; and if the language is to be aspirated by frequent elision in the manner of Alieri, it will suffer from, want of harmony. But even all the elisions of Alfieri have not been able to answer his purpose. The preference then which Dr. Johnson and others have thought fit to give to the harmony of Italian verse over our own, does very little credit in my opinion to their delicacy of ear. Turn up any of our tragic poets. What Ch'io non sarci madre or d'Edippo, e mog- melody can be richer, for instance, lie." "Ravviso Le Furie in voi che al nunzial mio letto "Io forse, Non son io quella, che al fighriol mio diedi Frutto non son d'orrido incesto?" "Io tutti in me gli asfetti Sento di madre, e d'esser madre abboro." than that of the following passages from the Mourning Bride: O no, time gives increase to my afflic tions. The circling hours that gather all the woes Which are diffus'd through the revolving year, Come heavy laden with the oppressing weight To me; with me, successively they leave And all the damps of grief. Further quotations on this subject were unnecessary. It may be no- heads, ticed in passing, that the word orror and its derivatives and compounds occur no less than forty-five times in the course of this one piece. Whose ancient pillars rear their marble Looking tranquillity-It strikes an awe heart. And terror on my aching sight; the tombs ceedings of this paltry tribunal. At And monumental caves of death look cold, the commencement of their forma Aud shoot a chilness to my trembling tion, the moral part of mankind considered them as a body likely to be This play, like all the others of Al- productive of the most beneficial re fieri, abounds in inversions, which the sults; but how different now must genius of the Italian language by no be their sentiments, when they per means admit of. They often render ceive these men, in whom they placed his meaning highly obscure; they so much reliance, shrinking from the also give a studied air to passages that cognizance of every fashionable vice,. might otherwise be pathetic. In vio- and alone seeking how they may ob lent grief or anxiety there can hardly struct the poorest tradesmen in the be leisure for quaint collocations of necessary duties of their occupations. words. The following are instances: Are these magnanimous gentlemen, "Andrai del regio serto Fra le avite scettrate ombre fastoso; who purposed so much in the begin ning, afraid to enter the lists with the affluent and powerful? Or do they imagine, that, by preventing the sale "Figlio amato! gran tempo è ch' io of apples and the deprivation of beards nol vidi! Forse in me spla, e nel materno immenso on Sundays, they strike at the root of evil? If so, I am concerned to state, that they have smitten the root so Più che ne' suoi guerrieri ogni sua speme very low that it is almost impractica Mi e figlio al fine.” "Ma, resta, Resra a placarsi inacerbito il core ble they should ever lop off all the branches. Had they endeavoured to abolish corruption, or resorted to the sabbatical haunts of the gay and unI shall conclude my observations on thinking, their efforts would have this play, with stating, that I found it been entitled to some praise. But on the whole very uninteresting, and whilst they are instigated by such that I read it from beginning to end cowardly and ungenerous dictates, as a task. When two poets have every patriot must hail the moment made choice of the same subject, and which shall bring their downfal. As the one has produced an affecting their career has alone been rendered poem, while the other has completely famous hitherto, by the punishment failed, the failure can hardly be at- of the most trivial misdemeanours, tributed to any other cause than the the boat and hackney-coachmen will want of dramatic genius. It was in all probability fall under their im from the pleasure I received from the pending scourge: and under their subject in the hands of Euripides, that auspices, our fair ladies, whose cirI have been led to bestow more at- cumstances will not admit of an equitention on the play of Alfieri than page, will not only be reduced to the perhaps it really deserves. I must deplorable necessity of visiting on say, however, that 1 by no means consider it as among the most successful of his efforts. I remain, &c. Edinburgh, May 29, 1808. foot, but will also be obliged to wear an additional petticoat, and add another pin to their tuckers. I shall forbear any further comments on this J. B. encroaching hord, until after the insertion of the next epistle of your most excellent correspondent, and remain, Sir, On the SOCIETY for the SUPPRESSION of VICE. SIR, IN your magazine for May. p. 405, ford, addressed to the Society for the Suppression of Vice, and I am happy to find that one honest individual is at length impelled by laudable motives to expose the contemptible pro your very obedient servant, City, June 16, 1808. AMICUS. On the ART of STAINING on GLASS. SIR, THE a title page, so that I cannot ascer- pieces, that they are now become the tain its date, nor can I answer for the Admiration of the Learned. success of the process. All I can say "In treating of the Art of Painting upon the subject is, that above thirty on Glass, I shall not mention the Ways years ago, when I was at the Uni used by the Ancients, because they versity, the late Mr. James Lister, are now out of Practice, and also be printer, then at Oxford, who had cause the latter Methods are much made a considerable progress in that more excellent. I shall therefore saart, told me, that the only informa- tisfie my self in prescribing only such tion he ever had upon the subject as may suffice to gratifie the Curiosity was from an old Latin author, and of those that love this Art. And to that this information was only that such I shall shew, not only the Menothing would make any impression thod of Painting, but also how to preon glass but minerals and metals; pare the Colours, to bake and finish that after many trials he made a per- 'em in the Furnace. The most part fect blood red from gold, yellow from of the Ingredients useful for this Sersilver, and some other colours, if I vice, being such as will also tinge the rightly remember, from substances Glass well enough. much the same as those in this ex- I will begin with the Preparation tract. If, therefore, you think it can of the Colours to be used in Painting throw any light upon a subject known of Glass; for before I shew how to to so very few, it is entirely at your work, the Preparation for it must be service. July 4, 1808. H.D. 66 first consider'd. "The White is compounded of several Ingredients; as white small "How to Paint on Glass. Pebble-stones, heated red-hot over a "THO' painting on Glass be very fire in an Iron Ladle, and thrown afterantient, yet it is much more modern wards into an Earthen Dish full of than painting on Wood or Cloth; as cold Water, to calcine them; and this being of no longer standing than the must be repeated several times till Art of making Glass. They who first they are prepar'd; afterwards, being painted on Glass, did it only in Co- dried, pound them with a Stone or fours mixt with Glue, which not being Glass Pestle in a Stone Mortar, and able to withstand the Injuries of Time, so grind them upon a Marbie to an a Way was found out of doing it with impalpable Powder; then mix a fourth Fire-proof Colours; which are incor- part of Nitre with it, and calcine porated with the Glass, by baking aud them in a Crucible; then pound and melting them together; and as soon grind them again, and calcine them a as this Secret was discover'd, every third time over a smaller Fire than one took Delight to practice the your former, and so take them off for Draught of Figures, and even intire use. Then done, when you would Histories thereon; whereof we have paint with it, add equal parts in weight still some remaining pictures on old of Gip, a sort of Tale found among Church-glass: But those Figures be- Plaister-nold, baked on the Coals to a fore the Year 1500, had not half the whiteness, and reducible to Powder sufficiency of Base or Relief, as is requir'd in painting. and Rocaille, grind them all three in a hollow Plate of Copper, with Gumarabick Water; and so it will be in good condition to paint withal. "Those who desir'd to work in lively Colours, made use of Glass-prit, ting'd in the Glass-house, as well for "The next Colour which cannot Carnation as Drapery, whereon they be admitted in this sort of painting, is draw the first Lines of the Visage, and Black: The manner of its Preparation other parts of the Body, in black, and is this: You must grind Scales of lion then shadow'd them with Strokes and from the Smith's Anvil-block, for Dashes. Painting having since that received an improvement, those Works became more perfect, and that in so short a time, and with such Advan tage, making fair and most exquisite three hours on the shallow Copperbason or Plate; and to this one-third of the same Weight of Rocaille, with a little Calx of Copper to prevent the Iron from turning red in the Fire; grind it to as impalpable a powder-as you can bring it to; and so keep it in which would be very much further'd, a close Vessel for use. if you throw ou it a considerable "Yellow is a more costly Prepara- Quantity of Salt, as it comes out of tion, and is made thus: Take fine sil- the Fire; this would glaze it, and caver Plates from the Copple, stratify pacitate it for retaining the Spirits in 'em in a Crucible, with Powder of the Fire. Sulphur, or Nitre, the first and last "Red Colour, for painting in Glass, Lay being of the Powder, and so cal- requires as much Caution as the Blue: cine them in a Furnace; this done, You must take the Scales of Iron, Licast it out, as soon as all the Sulphur tharge of Silver, of each a Dram; Feis consumed, into an earthen Bason of retto of Spain, half a Dram, Rocaille Water, and afterwards pound it in a three Drams and a half; grind all Stone Mortar, until 'tis fit for the these for half an Hour, on a shallow Marble; and so grind it with some of Copper-plate; in the mean time its Water wherein it was cooled, for pound three Drams of Blood-stone in six Hours; then add nine times its an Iron Mortar, and add to it the rest; Weight of Red-Oaker, and grind then pound a Dram of Gum-arabick them together for a full Hour, and in that Mortar, to an impalpable Powthen it is fit for painting on Glass. der, to take off the Remains of your "Blue is thus made: Take two Blood-stone, and so add it to the rest, Ounces of Zaffer, two Ounces of Mi- grinding it continually, lest the Bloodnium, and eight Ounces of very fine stone be spoiled. The best Manner of white Sand; put all these into a Bell- grinding these, is to pour Water by litmetal Mortar, and pound them very tle and little on the Ingredients as you well; and so into a Crucible covered grind them, neither wetting them too and luted over a quick Fire for an much, nor too little, but just as much as Hour, then draw off the Crucible, will keep a good Temper, as for Paintand pound them again as before: ing. Afterwards put all into a Foot-glass, This done, add a fourth of its Weight and so drop on it thro a small hollow in Salt-petre, powder'd; and having Cane of Wood, or with your Finger, mixed all very well together, return as much Water as will bring it to the them into a Crucible covered and Consistence of an Egg's Yolk battered, lated, which place again in the Fur- or a little more; than cover the Glass nace for two Hours at least, continu- to preserve it from the Dust, and so ing such another Fire as the former: let it stand three Days to settle. After The Crucible being off, and cooled a this, decant the clearest and purest of second time, grind the Mass as before, the Colours that rise at top, into anand so put it into a Crucible again, other Glass, without Disturbance of with a sixth Part of Salt-petre, and let the Sediment; and two Days after it it remain on the Fire for three Hours; has settled a-new, pour off again the then take off the Crucible, and imme- purest of the Colours, as before. diately with an Iron Spatula, red hot, This done, set it in the Body of a rake out the Matter, lest it should broken Matrass or Bolt head, over a stick, being very clammy, and hard to gentle slow Fire, to dry easily, and so be emptied. keep it for Use. When you have oc"Tis convenient to have strong casion for it, take a little fair Water in Crucibles for this Calcination, be- a Glass, and with it moisten as much cause it remains so considerable a Colour as you think convenient, that while in the Fire; and they must be will be excellent for Coronation. As luted with an extraordinary Lute, (for for the Faces, which are very thick, the whole Secret of this Preparation depends on the calcining the Ingredients, and Goodness of the Crucible) and therefore you must add the Powder of Borax, to the Powder of Glass vitrified, which helps the Fusion of the Glass: But the greatest stress lies in baking the Crucible, afterwards in a small Fire to cement the Pores, and make the Earth compact as Glass; dry 'em too, and you may moisten these in like manner with Water for Drapery, Timber-colour, and such other as you think convenient. "Purple Colour is prepared exactly like that of Blue; Only you must take an Ounce of Zaffer, and an Ounce of very pure and clean Perigurx, two Ounces of Minium, and eight Ounces of very fine Sand; pound all these in |