The Sun.
London, England, 1838-05-03 00:00:00

THE DRAMA.

THE ATHENIAN CAPTIVE.
London, Moxon, 1338.
We consider the Athenian Captive a very decided im-
provement on its predecessor. If it have no one conception
equal in • purity and loftiness to that of /un, or sustained
throughout with equal consistency, it has more variety of
character, more incident and animation—more, in
short, of those qualities which constitute the essence
of the drama. In lon, notwithstanding its many beauties
of thought and style, our sympathies were but faintly in-
terested ; we admired rather the graceful play of fancy o
the poet, than the stirring action of the dramatist ; but in
the Athenian Captive we find both combined. Here, we
have the polish and the purity, without the cold still life of
sculpture—a nearer approach to warm, breathing
humanity ; though still there are indications, and these not
"frequent, that the author has been more solicitous
to mellow a period, or work out a poetic image, than to
develop° a passion. His most efficient passages are those
which he ht e least laboured, and which seem to have
escaped him unawares. A burst becomes him wonder-
fully ; and when thus excited, it is curious to mark how
terse—bow pregnant with spirit—how full informed with
familiar simplicity—is his language, compared with what it
is on ordinary occasions, when be thinks it necessary to
maintain a certain uniform measured dignity of style. We
will give an instance or two of what we mean. Here are
some passages, whose insliration no man can doubt for
an instant. They come " warm of the heart and faithful to
its fires."

THOAS.—FooI ! fool ! away ! [Exit HI t.t.us.]
Ile's gone—yet she is with me still, with looks
Moro terrible than anger ; take away
That patient face—l cannot bear its sweetness."

•
• . • • . • • •
PENTutus—Fret not thy noble nature with what is past.
„,T, "As—No ! 'tis not past ; the murderer has no past,
ts one eternal present !

. . . . .
HYLLUS.—Yes, all.—Alas I Creusa,
He died in anger wills me."

. •
•
• • •
CREL'SA
•—•And what have I
To do with happiness? I am not young,
grew old in moments charg'd with love
And anguish.
Nothing can possibly be more successful than these pas-
sages. And why are they so? Simply because nature is
not overlaid by art in them ; because they are the familiar,
unsophisticated language that genuine feeling always dic-
tates' Real passion has neither leisure nor patience to con-
sider the eleganvies of expression. It eschews a simile,
And comes stern and direct to the point. We feel that
We cannot too highly praise the sterling dramatic
spirit manifest in the above extracts ; yet we fear the
author would be more gratified were we to give the pre-
ference to the following, in which he has laboured to pro-
duce an effect, solely by dint of a certain curiosa felicitas
of expression. The first, is a young warrior's apostrophe
to his sword, whose besetting defect is that it is too minute
and elaborate in description—in fact, too much of a set,
Premeditated burst of emotion, though full of grace and
dignity :

TROAS—(taking off his helmet.) To a most noble hand
I yield the glories of existence up,
And bid them long adieu! This plume, which now
Hangs motionless, as if it felt the shame
Its owner bears, wav'd in my boyish thoughts
Ere I was free to wear it, as the sign,
The dancing- image of my bounding hopes,
That imag'd it above a throng of battles,
Waving where blows were fiercest. Take it hence—
Companion of brave fancies, vanish'd now
For ever, follow them
[Elvues takes the helmet from THOM, and passes it