\1823.] 
Ulric proceeds to execute his pur- 
pose, but, in the mean time, Siegen- 
dorf assists Gabor to escape, and 
Succeeds in conveying him safely out 
of the castle. The indignation of the 
young Count is vehemently roused by 
his father’s impolitic interference ; and 
. the catastrophe winds up by his deter- 
mining, as it would seem, on very 
rational grounds, to abscond, and fol- 
low his fortunes in a mode of life 
better suited to his taste. 
Utric.—What’s this! 
Where is the villain? 
Siegendorf.* 
Are you in quest of? 
Ulric. Let us hear no more 
Of this: he must be found. You have not let him 
Escape? 
Siegendorf.—He’s gone. " 
Ulric. With your con ningueee 
i 
There are two, sir; which 
Siegendorf. 
My fullest, freest aid. 
ric. Then fare you well. 5 
(Ulric is going. 
et ae, I jcommand,—eutreat, —im- 
plore! Oh, Ulric! 
Will you then leave me? ; 
Ulric. What: remain to be 
Denounced,—dragg’d, it may be, in chains; and all 
By your inherent weakness, half-humanity, 
Selfish remorse, andtemporizing pity, 
That sacrifices your whole race to save 
A wretch to profit by ourruin! No, Count, 
Henceforth you have no son. 
Siegendorf. 1 never had one; 
And would you ne’er had borne the useless name. 
Where will you go? I would not send you forth 
Without protection. 
Ulric. Leave that to me,— 
1 am not alone, nor merely the vain heir 
OF your domains: a thousind,—ay, ten thousand,— 
Swords, hearts, and hands, are mine. 
Siegendorf. The foresters 
With whom the Hungarian found you first at 
Frankfort ? 
Utric.—Y es—men—who are worthy of the name! 
Go tell 
Your senators that they look well to Prague; 
J heir feast of peace was early forthetimes: —_ 
There ure more spirits abroad than have been laid 
- With Walleustein. 
inter Josephine and Ida. 
Josephine.—W hat is ’t we hear? My Sicgendorf! 
Thank Heaven, | sce you safe! 
Siegendorf. Safe 4 
Ida. Yes, dear father. 
Siegendorf.—No, no; I have uo children: never 
more 
Call me by that worst name of parent. 
Josephine. * What 
Means my good lord? ds : 
Siegendorf. That you have given birth 
To udemou! 
~ Ida (taking Utric’s hand).—Who shall dare say 
‘this of Ulric? 
~ Stegendorf.—lda, beware! there’s blood upon that 
and, 
\ Ida (stooping to hiss it).—I’d kiss it off, though 
it were mine. , 
Siegendorf. It is so. f 
Ulrie.—Away 1 it is your father’s. (Bait Ulric. 
Ida. Oh, great Godt 
And [ have lov’d this mau! 
(Uda falls senseless—Josephine stands 
speechless with horror.) 
Stegendorf.—The wretch hath slain 
Them beth. My Josephine! we are vow alone,— 
Would we had ever been so. All is over 
For me. Now open wide, my sire, thy grave ; 
Thy curse hath dug it deeper for thy son 
‘»-Inmine. The race of Siegendorf is past! 
Such is the tragedy of Werner; in 
which we shall look in vain for any of 
those passages of brilliant and high- 
Lord Byron's Tragedy of “« Werner.” 
507 
toned poetry, which, in his other com- 
positions of this nature, have illumi- 
nated the entire production, and 
sustained the fame of itsauthor. Nor 
can we fix upon any scene, inspired 
with any portion of that soul-shaking 
passion, which, in a drama in some 
respects not dissimilar in plot to 
W erner,—‘ the Robbers” of Schiller, 
—seizes with such irresistible domi- 
nion upon the agonized feelings of the 
reader. Charles, the captain of rob- 
bers, exacts all our sympathy; Ulric, 
the chief of banditti, feeling nothing 
for himself or for others, excites no 
emotion, except that of wonder at his 
impenetrable coolness and gratuitous 
wickedness. Werner himself is, if 
possible, still less attractive: he pos- 
sesses all the turbulent passions and 
evil principles of his son, united with 
an imbecility, which makes him Jess 
dangerous, but more despicable. We 
cannot mourn over the severed ties of 
such characters as these. Of Jose- 
phine and Ida, little is said by the 
poet, and less may suffice here. They 
are fair, but slight, and not very inter- 
esting, portraits, and add little to the 
pathos of the story. The effect of this 
publication is to convince us; more 
and more, that in pursuing his drama- 
tic career, Lord Byron is only re- 
moving still further from his proper 
path. If tears have been shed over 
his pages, it is certainly not over 
those which contain his dramatic 
pieces. But, even in that line, we 
are surprised and concerned to find 
that he can deliberately give to the 
world an attempt so devoid of poetical 
spirit and scenic effect as “ Werner” 
proves tobe. It is easy to write, and 
easy to dispose of writings which are 
supported by a splendid reputation; 
but we are confident that, if Lord 
Byron aims at preserving that repu- 
tation, he must exert, to much better 
effect than in the present instance, the 
great talents with which he is endow- 
ed, and cease to flatter himself that 
negligence and mediocrity can be pro- 
tected by the most imposing genius, 
.or the best established fame. 
ee 
To the Editor of the Monthly Magazine. 
SIR, 
HAVE not leisure at this moment 
torefer to your preceding numbers 
for precise quotation ; it will, however, 
answer both the readers purpose and 
mine, to observe, in brief, that one of 
_ your 
