SCENES FROM "POLITIAN,"*

An unpublished Brama;

AND

POEMS WRITTEN IN YOUTH.

*

'Politian" was a juvenile production, and is the least

meritorious work Poe has left.-ED.

NOTE TO "POEMS WRITTEN IN YOUTH."

Private reasons-some of which have reference to the sin of plagiarism, and others to the date of Tennyson's first poemshave induced me, after some hesitation, to republish these, the crude compositions of my earliest boyhood. They are printed verbatim, without alteration, from the original edition, the date of which is too remote to be judiciously acknowledged. E. A. P. —His first publication, I believe, was as early as 1827. ED.

ROME.-A hall in a palace. ALESSANDRA and CASTIGLIONE. Aless. Thou art sad, Castiglione.

Cas.

Sad!-not I.

O, I'm the happiest, happiest man in Rome :
A few days more, thou knowest, my Alessandra,
Will make thee mine. O, I am very happy!

Aless. Methinks thou hast a singular way of

showing

Thy happiness. What ails thee, cousin of mine?

Why didst thou sigh so deeply?

Cas.

Did I sigh?

I was not conscious of it. It is a fashion,

A silly-a most silly fashion, I have

When I am very happy.

Aless. Thou didst.
hast indulged

Did I sigh? (sighing.)

Thou art not well. Thou

Too much of late, and I am vexed to see it.
Late hours and wine, Castiglione,-these
Will ruin thee. Thou art already altered—
Thy looks are haggard: nothing so wears away
The constitution as late hours and wine.

Cas. (musing) Nothing, fair cousin, nothing-not
even deep sorrow—

Wears it away like evil hours and wine.

I will amend.

Aless.

Do it. I would have thee drop Thy riotous company too-fellows low-born Ill suit the like with old Di Broglio's heir And Alessandra's husband.

Cas.

I will drop them.

Aless. Thou wilt thou must! Attend thou

also more

To thy dress and equipage, they are over-plain

For thy lofty rank and fashion: much depends

Aless. Then see to it ! Pay more attention, sir, To a becoming carriage: much thou wantest

In dignity.

In

Cas.

Much, much-O, much I want proper dignity.

Aless. (haughtily) Thou mockest me, sir.

Cas. (abstractedly) Sweet, gentle Lalage!
Aless,

Heard I aright?

I speak to him he speaks of Lalage!

Sir count! (places her hand on his shoulder) what, art thou dreaming? He's not well!

What ails thee, sir?

Cas. (starting) Cousin!-fair cousin !—madam ! I crave thy pardon-indeed, I am not well. Your hand from off my shoulder, if you please. This air is most oppressive.—Madam—the duke!

Enter DI BROGLIO.

Di Brog. My son, I've news for thee.- Hey! what's the matter? (observing Alessandra.) I' the pouts? Kiss her, Castiglione !-kiss her, You dog! and make it up, I say, this minute. I've news for you both Politian is expected Hourly in Rome-Politian, Earl of Leicester. We'll have him at the wedding. "Tis his first visit To the imperial city.