SCENES FROM THE ALCESTIS OF ALFIERI. BY MRS. HEMANS. THE " Alcestis" of Alfieri is said to have been the last tragedy he composed, and is distinguished, in a remarkable degree, by that tenderness of which his former works present so few examples. It would appear as if the pure and exalted affection, by which the impetuosity of his fiery spirit was ameliorated during the latter years of his life, had impressed its whole character on this work, as a record of that domestic happiness in whose bosom his heart at length found a resting place. Most of his earlier writings bear witness to that "fever at the core," that burning impatience of restraint, and those incessant and untameable aspirations after a wider sphere of action, by which his youth was consumed; but the poetry of " Alcestis" must find its echo in every heart which has known the power of domestic ties, or felt the bitterness of their dissolution. The interest of the piece, however, though entirely domestic, is not for a moment allowed to languish, nor does the conjugal affection, which forms the main-spring of the action, ever degenerate into the pastoral insipidity of Metastasio. The character of Alcestis herself, with all its lofty fortitude, heroic affection, and subdued anguish, powerfully recalls to our imagination the calm and tempered majesty distinguishing the masterpieces of Greek sculpture, in which the expression of mental or bodily suffering is never allowed to transgress the limits of beauty and sublimity. The union of dignity and affliction impressing more than earthly grandeur on the countenance of Niobe, would be, perhaps, the best illustration of this analogy. The following scene, in which Alcestis announces to Pheres, the father of Admetus, the terms upon which the oracle of Delphos has declared that his son may be restored, has seldom been surpassed by the author, even in his most celebrated productions. It is, however, to be feared that little of its beauty can be transfused into translation, as the severity of a style so completely devoid of imagery must render it dependent, for many incommunicable attractions, upon the melody of the original language. SCENES FROM THE "ALCESTIS" OF ALFIERI. Act 1.-Scene II. ALCESTIS-PHERES. Alcestis. Weep thou no more.--O, monarch dry thy tears, Bereave thee of thy son. Pheres. What mean thy words? Hath then Apollo-is there then a hope? Alcestis. Yes, hope for thee,-hope, by the voice pronounced From the prophetic cave. Nor would I yield To other lips the tidings, meet alone For thee to hear from mine. But not for this; Think not that e'en for this the stranger, joy, Pheres. Can there be grief when, from his bed of death, Admetus rises? What deep mystery lurks Within thy words? What mean'st thou? Gracious Heaven! Thou, whose deep love is all his own, who hearest To his despairing sire; thy cheek is tinged Shades dark as night succeed, and thou art wrapt Alcestis. Resists not the tremendous laws of fate: Pheres. In thy looks There is expression, more than in thy words, Can render fatal to thyself and us Declare what terms The rescued life of him thy soul adores? Alcestis. O, father! could my silence aught avail To keep that fearful secret from thine ear, Still should it rest unheard till all fulfilled Were the dread sacrifice. But vain the wish; Pheres. For her, the partner of my cares and joys, I wait thy words; for well, too well, I see Death hath his rights, Alcestis. The heir of empire, in his glowing prime And noon-day struck ;-Admetus, the revered, All prepared the prey! And to our blood allied! O heaven!-and yet Alcestis. Less deep, less mournful far, shall here be heard, Than those his death had caused. With some few tears, But brief, and mingled with a gleam of joy, E'en while the involuntary tribute lasts, The victim shall be honoured, who resigned Life for Admetus. Wouldst thou know the prey,- Offered and hallowed to the infernal gods,- Pheres. What hast thou done? O heaven! What hast thou done? And think'st thou he is saved His very soul!-Of thee, beloved far more Than his loved parents,-than his children more,- Of thy young beauty;-perish, and destroy Would be the throne, the kingdom, reft of thee. And the fond pity, half with wonder blent, To grave in adamant the just decree, That I must die. But thou-I bid thee live! Ne'er, ne'er shall woman's youthful love surpass Alcestis. I know What canst thou say Which I should hear? I go, resolved to save Alcestis. Stay, stay thee! 'tis too late. To death. And I am firm, and well I know That vow hath won. Yes! thou mayst weep my fate, Mourn for me, father! but thou canst not blame My lofty purpose. Oh! the more endeared My life by every tie, the more I feel Death's bitterness, the more my sacrifice To the dim shadowy regions of the dead * * * * * * In the opening of the third act, Alcestis enters, with her son Eumeles and her daughter, to complete the sacrifice, by dying at the feet of Proserpine's statue. The following scene ensues between her and Admetus: Alcestis. Here, O my faithful handmaids! at the feet For I myself, e'en now, must offer here The victim she requires. And you, meanwhile, More close; he must return the fond embrace. Admetus. Oh children! Oh my children! to my soul Your innocent words and kisses are as darts That pierce it to the quick. I can no more Was woman e'er I hear the bitter and reproachful cries Of my despairing lord. With life's last powers, That he may hear and see me, Admetus. Is it thou? There by thy side for ever to remain. Alcestis. For me thy care is vain. Though meet for theeAdmetus. O voice! O looks of death! are these, are these Thus darkly shrouded with mortality! The eyes that were the sunbeams and the life Of my fond soul! Alas! how faint a ray Falls from their faded orbs, so brilliant once, * * * ** Alcestis! and thy feeble hand supports * * * * Vain is each obstacle-in vain the gods * |