of rendezvous, and making the signal agreed upon between the lovers, gets the lady into his power.

"Carlos. Donna Sol

Donna Sol. 'Tis not his voice!-me wretched-
Carlos.

Wouldst hear could be more loving? It is still

A lover 'tis a lover king.

Donna Sol.

The king!

Ah, what voice

Carlos. Who wishes-who commands. A kingdom waits
On thee-for he whose chain thou fain wouldst break,
The king thy sovereign is-is Charles thy slave!

Donna Sol. Help, help-Hernani!

Carlos.

Just alarm, indeed..

'Tis not thy bandit holds thee—'tis the king!
Donna Sol. 'Tis thou who art the robber ;-fie upon thee!

For thee the crimson shame doth dye my cheek.
To seize
Are these the deeds a king should boast?
At night, by force, a woman! Nobler far
The scorned Hernani! King! I say to thee,
If birthright were the soul's-if heart alone
Distinguished 'twixt the brigand and the prince,
Thine should the poniard be-the sceptre his!"

Hernani comes to her aid, and compels the king to retire ; he departs threatening vengeance, and the lady implores her lover to fly, offering herself to be the companion of his flight.

"Hernani. Together? no-the hour for that is past:
Sweet friend, when first thy beauty to mine eyes
Thou didst reveal, didst bless me with a love
Angelic, I could offer,-I, sad wretch,

My mountains, woods, and streams, and-thy pure pity
Emboldening me-the bread of one proscribed,,
The green and mossy bed the forest yields;
But half the scaffold? Pardon, Donna Sol,
The scaffold-it is mine alone!

Donna Sol. Yet all

You promised me!

Hernani.

Angel! e'en in this moment,

When death perhaps is nigh-when in its gloom
Comes of my mournful destiny the end,

I here proclaim-proscribed, and bearing ever
Devouring care-nursed in a bloody cradle,
How black so e'er the grief that thrills my being-
Myself most happy! Envy I deserve-

For you have loved me! you have told me thus!
Have stooped to bless a brow by men accursed!
Donna Sol. Let me then follow thee!

Ah, 'twere a crime

Hernani.
To snatch the flower as down the abyss we fall!
Go! I have breathed its perfume! 'Tis enough!
Renew for other life thy days by me

So crushed! Wed this old man! It is Hernani
Releases thee! Into my native night

I sink; for thee-be happy-and forget!"

The alarm bell sounds--and the sudden terror of the maiden, and the reckless apathy of her lover, are well depicted.

"Donna Sol. [rising.] The tocsin ! Hear'st thou ! the tocsin!

Donna Sol. Up-up, and fly! Great God-the city
Is lighted! Hence!

Hernani.

The torches for our nuptials!

Donna Sol. 'Tis the death-bridal-nuptials for the tomb!"

He escapes; and in despair of seeing him again, the unhappy girl at length consents to espouse her uncle. The scene of the third act is in the banqueting hall, where Donna Sol, magnificently habited, comes to give away her hand to one she can never love. A page informs the host that a wandering pilgrim implores admission to partake his hospitality, and Hernani is introduced, in the disguise of a mendicant, who, beholding what he imagines the proof of his lady's falsehood, instantly proclaims himself the robber, and calls upon the servants to win by his arrest the price offered for his head. Don Ruy Gomez, anxious only to preserve the life of his guest, and distrusting the cupidity of his servants, goes out to close the doors and arm his household, and in the brief moments of his absence, Hernani learns from Donna Sol the secret of her still cherished affection for him. The Duke de Silva discovers on his return that the bandit is his rival; in the midst of his reproaches, the sound of trumpets is heard without; a page announces that the king demands admittance, and requires to know why the gates are closed. Silva goes to his portrait, which hangs in the hall with those of his ancestors, and pressing a spring, discloses a hiding place in the wall, where he commands Hernani to secrete himself. This is hardly done when the king enters with his armed train; but though Don Carlos has traced the outlaw to the palace of Silva, and knows him to be concealed within it, his commands and menaces cannot compel the heroic Castilian to surrender his guest to the royal indignation. In vain the monarch threatens to raze his ancient castle to the ground; to take his head in lieu of that of the proscribed chieftain; Silva points to the portraits of his ancestors, and asks if the descendant of a line so illustrious shall be branded as the betrayer of his guest? Don Carlos then seizes Donna Sol; the old noble pathetically implores him to spare his niece; but though in the extremity of grief, his resolution wavers not for a moment. The lady is carried off as a hostage; when the king and his attendants have retired, Don Ruy Gomez releases his prisoner, and bids. him prepare for mortal combat. Hernani has heard nothing

in the place of his concealment, but being informed of the fate of Donna Sol, prays the old man to give him life and liberty to assist in her recovery. When that shall be accomplished, he swears "by the head of his father" to return and surrender his life as forfeited to his rival. The horn which he takes from his girdle and presents to Silva, is to be the signal of his death.

“Hernani. Hear; take this horn. Whate'er from this may chance, Whene'er thou wilt, whatever be the place,

The hour,-if in thy heart thou will'st my death,
Come-sound this horn, and take no further heed;
It shall be done."

Hernani, and Don Ruy Gomez, with other conspirators, meet to plot the overthrow of the King of Spain, in a vault of Aix-laChapelle; and here occurs one of those striking dramatic situations in which Victor Hugo is often so successful. The election for the Emperor of Germany is about taking place; the choice to be announced by the firing of cannon;-if the Duke of Saxony is elected, by one report; if the King of France, by two; and three, if the King of Spain: Don Carlos, aware of every movement of the conspirators, and provided with the means of arresting them, is concealed in the tomb of Charlemagne, within the vault; at the moment they solemnly swear his destruction, a distant report of cannon is heard; the door of the tomb opens a little, and Don Carlos, listening eagerly, appears upon the threshold. A second report-a third-he suddenly throws open the door, and discovers himself, but without advancing.

"Carlos. Gentles-stand further off;-the EMPEROR hears you!"

The conspirators, in sudden alarm, extinguish their torches; the king advances; strikes the iron key upon the bronze door of the tomb, and the vault is instantaneously filled with armed soldiers, who seize the discovered traitors. The grandees of Spain separate themselves from the common herd of the conspirators, who are beneath imperial vengeance; but Hernani, scorning to avail himself of the ignorance of all around of his claims to the distinction of punishment, announces his real name, as John of Arragon, with a list of titles that might alarm the ears of any new-made emperor. Donna Sol, however, who has been brought in by way of a coup-de-théâtre, throws herself at the monarch's feet; her lover is pardoned, and receives her as his bride; and here all parties might have been happily disposed of, but for a tragic afterplot, destined to mar all previous good fortune. On the evening of their bridal, Hernani and Donna Sol quit the scene of festivity, to wander alone among the gardens of the palace. They are followed at

a distance by a solitary mask, and gradually leave the revellers behind them.

"Donna Sol. Those voices weary me. Is 't not, dear lord, That this loud joy stuns happiness?

Hernani.

'Tis true.
Pure happiness is grave-it asks firm hearts,
Where slowly 'tis impressed. Pleasure affrights,
Flinging her flowers before it; and its smile`
Is aye less nigh to laughter than to tears.

Donna Sol. In your eyes, this smile is the day. But now!
Hernani. I am thy slave. Yes-stay; do what thou wilt;
I nothing ask. And know'st thou what thou do'st!
Thou do'st all well. If thou wilt, I will laugh,
So it may please thee. Burns my heart! Ah, bid
The fierce volcano hide its flames: 't will close
Its yawning gulf-and on its sides shall bloom
Flowers and green leaves alone!

Donna Sol.

Mine own Hernani!

Hernani.

Oh, full of goodness,

Ha! what name is that?

Call me no more, in pity, by that name!
It doth recall what I had all forgot!

I know there lived in time past, in a dream,
One named Hernani, in whose eyes did flash
The falchion's gleam, a man of night and of

The mountains-one proscribed-on whom the word
Vengeance,' was written every where; a wretch,
Dragging a curse behind him! I know not

This man. For me-I love the sports-the feast.—
I am a Spanish noble-John of Arragon!

Husband of Donna Sol—and happy!

Donna Sol.

Happy!

Hernani. What now to me the rags which at my entrance

I flung beside the door? Lo! I return

In sorrow to my palace, and an angel,

An angel waits to greet me at the threshold!

I enter, and the broken columns raise;

Relight the fires-the casements open wide;
Tear up the weeds grown in the paved court.
Nought waits me more but joy, enchantment, love!
My towers, my vassals, dungeons, they restore-
My plume-my seat in proud Castilia's council:
Then comes my bride-with blush and downcast eyes-
Oh, leave us thus, and pass the rest! I've seen
Nothing-nought said-nought done. Anew begun,
I blot out all-forget! Wisdom or madness,

I have thee-I adore thee-thou my all!"

*

"Donna Sol. Look out! a lovely night! But for a moment! It is a time alone to breathe and look!

All is extinct-flambeaux and festal music;

All-save the night and us! Oh, perfect bliss!
Believ'st it not? O'er us, while all are sleeping,
Doth nature, loving, watch! There's not a cloud
In the blue heaven! all is repose, like ours!

Come, breathe with me the air, embalmed in odours
Of roses. Look-more fires-more sounds :-now all
Again is mute. The silent moon above

The horizon's bound, e'en while thou spok'st, ascends!
Her quivering light, thy voice-both steal together
Into my heart. Joyous and calm, my love,

I could this instant die!

Forget in listening to that seraph voice!
Thy words are melody where nought of earth
Remains.

Donna Sol. This silence is too dark-this calm
Too deep. Say-wouldst thou not behold a star
In yon deep vault! or hear a voice of night
Tender, delicious, rising suddenly,

Utter its song?

Hernani.

Capricious! that forsook

Hernani listens gloomily; it is the summons of his enemy, reminding him of his fatal oath. The mask, who is discovered to be Don Ruy Gomez, then appears upon the scene, calling upon the bridegroom to redeem his promise, by surrendering his life; the entreaties and despair of Donna Sol cause the victim to waver for an instant, but his resolution revives at the old man's taunts; he drinks the poison prepared for him, and his example is followed by his lady; after which they deliberately sit down to die; while the uncle, relenting too late, exclaims "Je suis dumné!" and concludes the piece by killing himself.

The cold-blooded atrocity of this catastrophe redeems the play from the praise it would have otherwise merited, of being the only drama Victor Hugo has produced, with any pretensions to good taste; as it is, it is only the starting point in a race in which every succeeding step is a stride. Nor can we perceive the consistency of the principle displayed. The Spanish noble risks his own life to shield his guest from danger, conspires afterwards against his king, then follows his former guest in disguise to claim the fulfilment of a promise extorted from him while yet in his power. Hernani, sacrificing his life to his enemy, and leaving his bride unprotected, because he had sworn to commit suicide "by the head of his father," we cannot but imagine a point somewhat overstrained. There is