Burlington free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1827-1865, 1843-04-28
UNwRITTEN DRAMA OF LORD BYRON
BY WASHINGTON IRVING.

UNWRITTEN DRAMA OF LORD BYRON.
BY WASHINGTON IRVING.
The reading world has, apprehend. by this
time become possessed Of nearly every scrap of
poetry and romance ever written by Lord By
ron. 1t may be pleasing however to know
something of dramatic poem which he did not
write, but which he projected-and this is the
story.
The hero, whom we will call Alfonso, is a
Spanish nobleman, just entering upon the ca
recr of life. His passions, from early and un.
restrained indulgence, have become mpetuous
and ungovernable, and he follows their impulses
with needless disregard Of consequences.
Soon after his entrance into the world, he
finds himself followed, occasionally, in public
places, by person masked and muff1ed up so
as to conceal both countenance and figure.
He at first pays but little attention to the cir
cumstance, considering the stranger some idle
or impairment lounger about society. By de.
grees. however, the frequent Intrusion Of this
silent and observant follower, becomes extreme
ly irksome. The MYSTERY too, which envelopes
himself heightens the annoyance. Alfonso lis
unable to identify him with any of his acquain-
tance-his name, his country, his place of abode
--all are unknown; and it is impossible even
to conjecture his motives for this singular es-
pionage. 1t is carried, BY degrees, to such
lengths, that he becomes, as it were, Afonzo's
shadow--his second self. Not only the most
private actions Of the latter pass under the scru-
tiny his oficious monitor but his most Sc.
cret thoughts seem known to him. Speak of
him--he stands by his side think of him--he
feels his presence, though invisible, Cypress and
weigh upon his spirits. like a troubled atmos-
phere. Waking or sleeping, Alfonso has him
in fhnuuht or in yiou He hio path at
every turn; like the demon in Faust, he intru.
des in his solitude. He follows him in the
crowded street, or the brilliant saloon thwart-
ing his schemes, and marring all his intrigues
Of love or ambition. In the giddy mazes of the
dance, in which Alfonso is addressing his fair
partner with the honeyed words Of seduction, he
sees the stranger pass like shadow before him;
voice, like the voice of his own soul, whisper,
in his ear the words Of seduction die from his
lips; he no longer hears the music Of the dance.
The hero of the drama becomes abstrac' ed
and gloomy. Youth, health, wealth, power.
all that promised to give zest to life, have s.,
their charm. The sweetest cup Of pleasure
becomes poison to him. Existence is burden.
TO add to his despair, he doubts the fidelity of
the fair but frail of his affection and suspects
the unknown to have supplanted him in her
thoughts.
Alfonso now thirsts only for vengeance but
the mysterious stranger eludes his pursuit, and
his emissares in vain endeavor to discover his
retreat. At length he succeeds in tracing him
to the house of his mistress, and attacks him
with the fury Of frantic jealousy, taxes him with
his wrongs, and demands satisfaction. They
tight; his rival scarcely defends himself: at
the first thurst he receives the sword of Alfonso
in his bosom, and in falling excaims, Are you
satsfed!'
The mask and mantle Of the unknown drop
ped off, and Alfonso discovers his own image
the spectre of himself--he dies with horror!
The spectre is an allegorcal being, the per
sonfficaton Of conscience, or the passions.
Such was the general plan Of poem whc!
Lord Byron had in mind, several years since
and which he communicated, IN conversation
to Captain Medwin, from whom received
nearly in the foregoing words. The idea wa
or the Encapatado, and was furnished to Byro
by Shelly, as his lordshp did not understan
Spanish. The foregoing plan is somewha
vague and immature, and would doubtless hav
undergone many notifications in the progress
Of being bought out. Lord Byron intended
treat it in the genuine spirit Of Goethe, as di
played in his wild and extraordinary drama
Faust, and expected to make it very effectiv
1t certainly affords ample scope for the mysti
the mlsanthropc, the metaphysical, and the r
mantle, in which he so much delighted; al
would have given him an opportunity of int
weaving much Of his own peculiar feelings al
experience.
How far the plan he had in view agreed wi
the Spanish original have not been able to a
certain. The latter was said to be by Calde
on; but it is not to be found in any edition
his works that have seen. My curiosity bell
awakened nm the subject. I made dipe nj inn,
ny, while in Spain, for the play in question,
it was not to be met with in any OF the pub
libraries, or private collections nor could 4
booksellers give me any information about
Some OF the most learned and indefatigable c.
lectors of Spanish literature informed me tina
, play Of that kind, called the Emboaado Of O.
doua, was somewhere in existence, but they h
never seen il.
The foregoing sketch Of the plan may here
ter suggest rich theme to poet or dramat
of the Byron school.