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:
This cannot last forever. . oh, may change
To-day, or any day!

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
To counsel him ;-may even cast off her
-That bad Sebastian; but he also may
.. Or, no, Polyxena, my only friend,
He may not force you from me?

Pol.

Now, force me

From you!-me, close by you as if there gloomed
No D'Ormeas, no Sebastians on our path-
At Rivoli or Turin, still at hand,

Arch-counsellor, prime confidant . . . force me!
Cha. Because I felt as sure, as I feel sure
We clasp hands now, of being happy once.
Young was I, quite neglected, nor concerned
By the world's business that engrossed so much
My father and my brother: if I peered
From out my privacy,-amid the crash

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—
I wondered-laughed a moment's laugh for pride

In the chivalrous couple-then let drop

My curtain-" I am out of it," I said—
When...

Pol. You have told me, Charles.

Cha.

Polyxena

When suddenly,—a warm March day, just that!
Just so much sunshine as the cottager's child
Basks in delighted, while the cottager
Takes off his bonnet, as he ceases work,
To catch the more of it-and it must fall
Heavily on my brother... had you seen
Philip the lion-featured!—not like me!
Pol. I know-

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
Must conquer,-ay, the brilliant thing he was,
I, of a sudden, must be my faults, my follies,
-All bitter truths were told me, all at once
To end the sooner. What I simply styled
Their overlooking me, had been contempt:
How should the Duke employ himself, forsooth,
With such an one while lordly Philip rode

By him their Turin through? But he was punished,
And must put up with-me! 'Twas sad enough
To learn my future portion and submit-

And then the wear and worry, blame on blame!
-For, spring-sounds in my ears, spring-smells about,
How could I but grow dizzy in their pent

Dim palace-rooms at first? My mother's look
As they discussed my insignificance-

(She and my father, and I sitting by,)—

I bore :-I knew how brave a son they missed:
Philip had gayly passed state-papers o'er,
While Charles was spelling at them painfully!
But Victor was my father spite of that.
"Duke Victor's entire life has been," I said,
"Innumerable efforts to one end;

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.
To serve in place
Of monarch, minister and mistress, Charles.

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!
Pronounce what I should do, Polyxena!