So far as I know, this Tragedy is the first artistical consequence of what Voltaire termed " a terrible event without consequences;" and although it professes to be historical, I have taken more pains to arrive at the history than most readers would thank me for particularizing: since acquainted, as I will hope them to be, with the chief circumstances of Victor's remarkable European career-nor quite ignorant of the sad and surprising facts I am about to reproduce (tolerable accounts of which are to be found, for instance, in Abbé Roman's Récit, or even the fifth of Lord Orrery's Letters from Italy) -I cannot expect them to be versed, nor desirous of becoming so, in all the details of the memoirs, correspondence, and relations of the time. From these only may be obtained a knowledge of the fiery and audacious temper, unscrupulous selfishness, profound dissimulation, and singular fertility in resources, of Victor-the extreme and painful sensibility, prolonged immaturity of powers, earnest good purpose and vacillating will, of Charles-the noble and right woman's-manliness of his wife-and the ill-considered rascality and subsequent better-advised rectitude of D'Ormea. When I say, therefore, that I cannot but believe my statement (combining as it does what appears correct in Voltaire and plausible in Condorcet) more true to person and thing than any it has hitherto been my fortune to meet with, no doubt my word will be taken, and my evidence spared as readily. KING VICTOR AND KING CHARLES. PERSONS. VICTOR AMADEUS, First King of Sardinia. CHARLES EMANUEL, his Son, Prince of Piedmont. POLYXENA, Wife of Charles. D'ORMEA, Minister. SCENE The Council Chamber of Rivoli Palace, near Turin, communicating with a Hall at the back, an Apartment to the left and another to the right of the stage. TIME, 1730-1. FIRST YEAR 1730.-KING VICTOR. PART I. CHARLES, POLYXENA. Cha. You think so? Well, I do not. Pol. My beloved, All must clear up-we shall be happy yet: Cha. May change! -May change? Ah yes Pol. Cha. Endure it, then. No doubt, a life Like this drags on, now better and now worse; My father may may take to loving me; ... And he may take, too, D'Ormea closer yet Pol. Now, force me From you!-me, close by you as if there gloomed Arch-counsellor, prime confidant . . . force me! And blaze of nations, domineered those two; 'Twas war, peace-France our foe, now-England friend In love with Spain-at feud with Austria !—Well— In the chivalrous couple-then let drop My curtain-" I am out of it," I said— Pol. You have told me, Charles. Cha. Polyxena When suddenly,—a warm March day, just that! Cha. And Philip's mouth yet fast to mine, His dead cheek on my cheek, his arm still round My neck,—they bade me rise, "for I was heir To the Duke," they said, "the right hand of the Duke;" Till then he was my father, not the Duke! So.. let me finish. . the whole intricate World's business their dead boy was born to, I By him their Turin through? But he was punished, And then the wear and worry, blame on blame! Dim palace-rooms at first? My mother's look (She and my father, and I sitting by,)— I bore :-I knew how brave a son they missed: 66 And, on the point now of that end's success, "Our Ducal turning to a Kingly crown, "Where's time to be reminded 'tis his child "He spurns?" And so I suffered. . yet scarce suffered, Since I had you at length! Pol. Cha. But, once that crown obtained, then was't not like Our lot would alter ?" When he rests, takes breath, "Glances around, and sees who's left to love"Now that my mother's dead, sees I am left— "Is it not like he'll love me at the last? Well: Savoy turns Sardinia-the Duke's King! Could I precisely then-could you expect His harshness to redouble? These few months Have been... have been . . Polyxena, do you And God conduct me, or I lose myself! What would he have? What is't they want with me? Him with this mistress and this minister, -You see me and you hear me; judge us both! |