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of you.

be in a gondola awaiting you. Do not shrink back entrance. The Austrian had at this bold proposal. T'implore you read on. Your noblo spirit shudders at this apparent worked him to death; what with clean

watched him closely all day, and had escapade, you think it would disgrace your father's fame. Your father's, Lelia, is a sacred ing bis arms, and pipe-claying his aoname, rovered by all generous Italian hearts, coutrements, he was ready to dropand you are the true daughter of such a man ; for I, too, can appreciate his worth. Yes, dear.

besides, the work was degrading. est, in Vienna I had an interview with him. • Enough." said Vandyke; Was it through disinterestedDoss? I dare Zambetto, I have a last service to ask not answer. Your fond name was mentioned

A gondola and two oars-hallowed by a father's affection--as a rea.

menson for bis remaining, and yet I urged bis I had wronged not tell him I knew you-how

"My master," interrupted Zambetto, light. I dared you-I trembled before him. “I 806I understand," and he looked Your father, after a thousand

perils, has left disappointed; " if there is anything Austria, and is, before this (God willing), in America, with my own father, in my own

that breaks my heart, it is this-you dear home. There, Lelia, you have my secret; have exactly stolen from me the very one I would have withheld. I should have plan I was concocting. Two cousins awaited until your father's own hand bad in. of mine are famous oarsmen. They formed you of his escape. But believe me, the present danger which awaits you, Lelis; have carried away many a prize at the I would not imposo upon your womanly fears Christmas races. They are now engagod -alas! I have certain information, that

the in the foreign importation, that is to imperial government, incensed at their prey having eluded them, believe you to have This is just the time I can find them; for,

say, without permission of the dogana. plotted his escape, and intend you as their next victim. This alone may excuse my an.

like honest men, they are asleep with nouncing that which I daro to hope may their wives and children." bat prove the affection and respect in which

“They must be stationed in tho I hold you and yours."

neighborhood at half-past nine o'clook “Now, Zambetto,” hurriedly said his to-morrow. Can they be depended master, “take this, and swear to give upon ?" it to the signorina." Zambetto, scared "I tell you they are my mother's by the earnestness of his manner, nephews,” said Zambetto with pride. dropped on his knee, uncovered his "you will know the gondola- an old head, and swore a solemn oath—for once one, and rusty, my cap will hang over he was thoroughly sincere.

the iron-beak." “ You must

find means to come here “I put all trust in you-give them by twelve o'clock to-night.”

this," and he gave the stripling a purso “If I have to jump out of the win. containing a little Venetian fortune. dow in the canal, I will be here," and, “I am off,” cried Zambetto. from the earnestness of bis manner, it Stop. Poor Zambetto," and his was probable he would have done so ; master took his hand; I have not done then, relapsing into his old stylo, be with you, this is for yourself," and he inquired, dues your honor take the gave Zambetto what made his eyes rest of this play in his own hands ?" glisten-enough money to allow him to

“Yes," was the short, decisive an- be lazy for the remainder of his days. swer ; his master was in no playful “You must manage to make your mood.

escape to-night.” • I still have a part on the other "I most humbly beg to differ. Did side—that of an idiot," Zambetto put I leave the scene so soon, it would be on an asinine expression—"and now a false sortie and all is lost. I must I must be off," and, rapidly putting on return to my master, I have other his old clothes, Zambetto made a plans, leave to-morrow to me and voyago in zig-zag, for the opposite bow, addio !" side. At twelve o'clock, Zambotto re- “ Zambetto, you may not see me turned to bis first master. He bad again.” Zambetto paused a moment, managed to smuggle the note to the then burst into tears ; fumbling in his signorina, by means of Sancho. She bosom, he drew out two things, one an had not appeared at dinner-this he amulet, carefully sewn up in a bit of had from the servants, whose confi- silk, worn and dirty ; the other was a dence he had gained as Nina's cousin. thin blade of steel, sharp as a needle, He had had great difficulties in slipping pliant as an osier, corded around one out; but having made love to the cook, end, to serve as a bandle. “Take sbe bad loaded him the key of the those," he said, " this is a boly relic,"

VOL. IX.-10

mo?"

be kissed the charm, “it will protect er's attention was withdrawn from you-keep off the evil eye ; as to this. the window, and bestowed on himself. Abem! Should an accident happen At last the Austrian was bootod, and, with it, why, kiss the relic afterwards." wrapping himself in bis military “Zambetto, will you come with cloak, bidding Zambetto precede him.

they went out, and crossed the bridge, · Impossible ! Yours is a land of some half-dozen houses lower down. black men; how you became wbite is a “This way, your signore, this is tho miracle to me. You have no canals, road," officiously cried Zambetto, as no gondolas, no Punchinello, no soft loud as he could, as he led the officer a music on the water, no glorious sun, slippery walk, along the six-inch path no mellow moon, no inspiration, your skirting the small canal loading to the dialect would spoil my teeth. No car- back

of Vandyke's house. nival, not an intrigue, not even lazi. " What a chance to tumble him Dess! I could never succeed there; over,” thought Zambetto, “but no." you do not even understand the Lazzis ! He opened a small door. I must be gone. I shall pray for you, "Fellow, thou art taking me up tho addio! addio!" and he glided out. servants' entrance."

“ Is there any other? I know but V.

this," and he proceeded to walk up Next morning, Venice was dull and stairs with the officer at his heels ; the gloomy. The cornices, mouldings, and narrow stairs joined the landing of the balustrades of its many palaces look- third story. Vandyke's door was on the ed damp and black in the pouring rain. jar, Zambetto stumbled against it, and There is always a sufficiency of water closed it. in Venice, but, during one of these “Awkward booby! Is it to the top never-ceasing storms, that frequently of the house thou art taking me ?" occur (rendering the queen of the seas To the first story, counting down. the most unwholesome of cities), water wards. Are your excellency's illustriseems a melancholy superfluity. ous legs tired? Here we are at last."

* Ah, scum of the earth, thou art They had come to one of those strange there at last,” said the ecuyer, as old attics of a Venetian bouse, all cobZambetto stood before him, chocolate webbed and begrimed with the dust of tray in hand.

years. Yes, your grace," replied Zambet- It is dark here." to, “ I have dared to bring up my most “Yes," replied Zambetto, "but it will magnificent master's morning meal" soon be light," and he opened a window Zambetto always dashed into the alli- looking on the canal, and, peering downterative, when be got a chance. “ I have wards, saw his old master's gondola made it myself, which may account shoot across the canal ; he uttered an for my not having as yet answered exclamation of joy. my commander's call. At the same time, “What art thou about? Is this the allow me to remind you, that we have door of this cursed painter ?" he pointed an engagement this morning." Just to a door surmounted by a small open then, the chamber olock struck nino. window.

" True," said the officer, blowing at "Exactly. Now, your highness, I his chocolate; “scoundrel, how hot this will go first and announce; for those is! Hast seen Nina ?"

poor devils of artists, in raw, weather “ Yes, your grace.

She is over- like this, stay abed all day, to save oome, I am overcome, all are, at your fuel ;" and, with a knock at the door, gentle forgiveness, your sweetness of which had no answer, Zambetto, appa temper."

rently, ventured to open it on the crack • Hold thy tongue and bring me my and slide in. boots," and he got up and neared the A minute elapsed, and the ecuyer window; in a second, Zambetto was began to storm with impatience ; five back with a pair of high military boots, minutes passed, and, with no little adorned with gorgeous cavalry spurs.

difficulty, he burst into the room, upset “ Thou idiot, is a horse necessary ting a barricade of old pictures which to cross over the way with ?" and be Zambetto bad improvised. Zambetto threw them at Zambetto's head. The was before an old easel, engagod, with latter's object was attained, the ecuy. & piece of charcoal, making a rough

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sketch apon the back of an antiquated first time in Venice, I have mislaid my picture. The couper looked around pistols." him, and, seeing no painter, cried, They heated thy chocolate, brute," “Thou bound-thou traitor, thou hast responded Zambetto, giving an anxious deceived me, thou shalt rot in prison for glance at the door; then, tightening the this," and, foaming with rage, he made strap around his waist and crouching towards Zambetto, who, eluding him as under the approaching bar, with nimble quick as thought, shut to the door, feet he suddenly sprang upwards, and locked it, and threw the key out of the disappeared like an antelope through window.

the small oriole window over the door. “Thou shalt have the cavaletto !* I “Ouff!" he cried, as be landed on all will have thee scourged to death!" and fours, and, clutching at the banister, he made at bim; the room (Vandyke's just prevented a fall of some hunlamber room) was large, and Zambetto dred feet on the marble pavement beeasily escaped bim, Aying about with low. “ Not even a blanket to catob mo the agility of a deer, fumbling, at the in; wbat a jump; Pierrot has surpassed same time, in his breast, as if for some- himself, and, at last, I am up to the thing. “It is well for thee, pig, that I character, though it partook more of have given away my stiletto, or I would the nature of a melo-drama than I cared Aesh my maiden coup in thy fat,” ro- for. Pound on, thou fat bloodhound, it torted Zambetto, throwing off all dis- will take thee an hour to burst open the guise. “Is it thou, vile butcber, car. door;" and, overcoming the immense rion devourer, miller, f that feed on the desire of climbing up to the window and flour of ground women and children's uttering some other parting politeness, bones, that would think to catch me? I he sped down stairs. His master's was apprenticed five years to a monti- room was empty, be rushed to the canal, banco, an honester craft than thine; and and, far off through the mist, his expethou couldst not touch me if thou didst rienced eye saw a gondola just emerging thy best; thou hast sucked so much into the Canale della Giudecca. blood that thou art as elastic as a gorged " By all the saints, they are off. I leech. Thou old pantalone, how thou regret I have not had the time to inform blowest," herë Zambetto, just dodging a them that at last," he said this with powerful blow made at him, with the bea- evident satisfaction, as if there was vy easel, went through the futter of feet something off his mind," at last I have of the arlecchino. “ That is not in our got my drabbing; for, in the excitement game of tag, thou pudding kaiserlich ; of the moment, I believe the gentleman see thy portrait, thou hast tumbled it up stairs has given me more bruises than down-thy picture with ass's ears--and any lackey, in the whole repository of I am thy artist, thou blood clot of funny farces, over received for the sgherri."| Zambetto's caricature was amusement of the most exacting of andineither a Gavarni nor a Leach, though ences; and now for the wax taper I displaying some artistic merit. Zam

have promised to San Pantaloone," and, betto then commenced describing circles with a merry laugh, he disappeared. around him, like the eastern hero in the The sudden departure of a Smyrna Talisman; he was, however, gradually brig, taking advantage of the thick gotting, cornered—the officer having weather, regardless of the customary changed his tactics by means of the port formalities, happened about this easel, holding it like a bar before him ; time. A week afterwards, three people he was driving bis agile enemy, to the landed at Marseilles. Lelia, Brown, and wall. “There, vile slave," cried the Nina; we forget, there was a little officer, “it is well for thee that, for the

dog.

Cavaleltaan infamous bastinado.
| Miller. The lower classes call the Austrians millers, from their wbito uniform.

Sgherri-cat-throat.

A NATIONAL DRAMA.

Ask any

WE
E are eminently a people of action; ment. They educate while they do.

we are fond of shows, processions, light many generations. and all organized spectacles; we are so Good books are the best thoughts of much more imitative than our British the best men. They issue out of deep cousins, that, without limiting its appeals hearts and strong heads; and where to the mimetio files of fashion, the ungen- there are deep hearts and strong beads tlemanly theory of a Simian descent for such books are sure to come to life. man might find support in the features The mind, like the body, will reproduce of our general life. To complete the itself: the mind, too, is procreative, large compound of qualities that are re- transmitting itself to a remote posterity. quired, in order that an emulous people The best books are the highest progive birth to a drama, one is yot want- ducts of human effort. Themselves the ing; but that one is not merely the most evidence of creative power, they kindle important of all, but is the one which and nourish power. Consider what a lifts the others into dramatic import- spring of life to the world bave been the ance. Are we poetical?

books of the Hebrews. What .so prenumber of continental Europeans, cious treasure has England as Shakowhether the English are a poetical peo- speare ? ple. A loud, unanimous, derisivo no To be good, books must be generic. would be the answer. And yet, there They may be, in subject, in tone, and is Shakespeare! and around him, back to in color, national, but in substance they Chaucer and forward to Tennyson, a must be so universally human, that other band of such poets, that this prosaic cognate nations can imbibe and be nation has the richest poetic literature nourisbed by them. Not that, in their in Christendom. Especially in this fashioning, this fitness for foreign minds matter are appearances delusive, and is to be a conscious aim; but to be thus hasty inferences liable to be illogical attractive and assimilative, is a proof of From the prosers that one hears in pul- their breadth and depth of their high pits, legislatures, lecture-rooms, at humanity. morning calls and well-appointed din- The peoples who earliest reached the ner-tables in Anglo-America, let no state of culture which is needed to bring man infer against our poetic endow. forth books, each standing by itself, ment. Shakespeare, and Milton, and each necessarily sang and wrote merely Burns, and Wordsworth are of our of itself. Thus did the Hebrows and stock; and what we bave already done the Greeks. But already the Romans in poetry and the plastic arts, while yet, went out of themselves, and Virgil takes as a nation, hardly out of swaddling- a Trojan for his hero. This appropriaolothes, is an earnest of a creative fu- tion of foreign material shows, that the ture. We are to have a national litera- aim of high books is, to ascond to the ture and a national drama. What is a sphere of ideas and foelings that are innational drama ! Premising, that as dependent of time and place. Thenoe, little in their depth as in their length whon, by multiplication of Christian will our remarks be commensurate with nations, the world had become vastly the dimensions of this great theme, we enlarged, embracing in one bond of oulwill say a fow words thereon.

ture, not only all modern civilized peoA literature is the expression of what ples, but also the three great ancient is warmest and deepest in the heart of a ones, the poets-especially the dramatic, people. Good books are the crystalli- for reasons that will be presently stated zation of thoughts and feelings. To looked abroad and afar for the framehave a literature—that is, a body of en- work and corporeal stuff of their writduring books—implies vigor and dopth. ings. Such books are the measure of the men- The most universal of all writers, antal vitality in a people. Those peoples cient or modern, he who is most generio that have the best books will be found in his thought, Shakespeare, embodied to be at the top of the scale of humanity; his transcendent conceptions for the those that have done, at the bottom. most part in foreign porsonages.

Of Good books, once brought forth, exhale Shakespeare's fourteen comedies, the ever after both fragrance and nourish- scene of only one is laid in England ; and that one, the Merry Wives of Wind- Parisians. But deeper than this; Mosor—the only one not written chiefly or lière was by nature a great satirist. I largely in verse—is & Shakespearean call him a great satirist, because of the farce. Of the tragedies (except the affluence of inward substance that fed series of the ten historical ones) only his satirio appetite-namely; & clear, two, Lear and Macbeth, stand on Brit- moral sensibility, distinguishing by inish ground. Is Hamlet on that score stinct the true from the false, rare intelloss English than Lear, or Othello than lectual nimbleness, homely common Macbeth ? Does Italy count Juliet senso, shrewd insight into men, a keen among her trophies, or Desdemona? wit, with vivid perception of the comic

Of Milton's two dramas—to confine and absurd. For a satirist so variously myself here to the dramatic domain- endowed, the stage was the best field, the tragedy (Sampson Agonistes), like and for Molière especially, gifted as he his epics, is Biblical; the comedy (Co- was with histrionic genius. The vices mus) bas its home in a sphere

and abuses, the follies and absurdities, "Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot

the hypocrisies and superficialities of Which men call earth."

civilized life, these were the game for

his faculties. The interior of Paris Of the numerous athletic corps of dra- households be transferred to the stage matists, contemporary with Shakespeare with biting wit, doubling the attractiveand Milton, few have left works pithyness of his pictures by comic hyperbole. enough and so poetically complete as His portraits are caricatures, not beto withstand the wear of time and keep cause they exaggerate vices or foibles, fresh to each successive generation. but because they so bloat out a single But if you inspect the long list from personage with one vice or one folly as which Charles Lamb took his "Speci- to mako him a lop-sided deformity. mons,” you will find few British Characters he did not seek to draw, names.

but ho made a personago the medium Casting our eyes on the dramatic ef. of incarnating a quality. Harpagon is forts of the recent English poetic celebri- not a miser; he is avarice speaking tios, we perceive that Byron, Coleridge and doing. Alceste is not a person; and Shelley, all abandoned, in every in- is misanthropy personified. stance, native groumd. The only dra. This fundamental exaggeration led to matic work of a great modern, the scene and facilitated the caricature of relations of which is laid within the British lim- and juxtapositions. With laughable units, is "The Borderers,” of Words- scrupulousness Molière multiplies im worth, which, though having the poetic probable blunders and conjunctions. advantage of remoteness in time being All verisimilitude is sacrificed to scenic throw back to the reign of Henry III. vivacity. Hence, the very highost of -is, in strictness, neither a drama nor his comedies are faroe-like, even Tar& poem, Wordsworth's deficiency in tuffa. dramatic gifts being so signal as to There is in Molière little dramatic cause, by the impotent struggle in an growth going on before the spectator's uncongenial element, a partial paralysis eye. His personages are not, by sacoven of his high poetio genius.

cessive toucbos, broad or fine, gradually Glance DOW

across the Channel. built up. They do not evolve themFrench poetic tragedy is in its subjects selves chiefly by collision with others : almost exclusively ancient-Greek,

Ro- in the first act they come on the stage man, and Biblical. In the works of the unfolded. The action and plot advance great comic genius of France, Molière, rapidly, but not through the unrolling we have & saliont exception to the prace of the persons represented. Hence bis tice of all other eminent dramatists. most important personages are prosaic The scene of his plays is Paris; tho and finite. They interest you more as time is the year in which each was agents for the purpose in band than as written.

men and women. They are subordinato Let us look for the cause of this re- rather to the action than creative of markable isolation.

action. Molière was the manager of a the- Molière is a most thorough realist, atrical company in the reign of Louis and herein is his strength. In him the XIV.; and he wrote, as he himself de comic is a vehicle for satire; and the clares, to please the king and amuse the satire gives pungency and body to the

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