If it were not that virgin modesty Did fill, with tyrant pow'r, a maiden's heart, Gonzaga. How can I thank thee Words to thy desert Who left her father for her paramour," Gonzaga. Dear Julia, say not so; and do not thwart Dearest Love, I have a story for you:-there was once, dag + pe para pas Of sculptur'd Grecian forms-more beautiful Than those bright Phidias design'd, or the bold hand And, having learnt them, found she was the child Of a poor courtier, then, he sought her court, Julia. And what, Gonzaga, What did he do! Gonzaga. He fell, my dearest Love, When that she found she had bestow'd her heart, Approach her presence more. The youth, abash'd Then, all his grief rush'd on him like the tide, The foaming tide: his heart could bear no more.. Of a steep precipice, down whose rugged side He frantic cast himself, and headlong fell Into eternal night! Julia. Poor soul! He was Beautiful, no doubt. Gonzaga. I cannot say, Love. Julia. But, ah! how cruel was that fair who could See such a lover perish! Julia. Oh, Gonzaga! Rack me not thus !---I will not yield to you! 'Twere better, far, that we should ever part, Than wed against a father's stern decree. Gonzaga. Farewell, then, Julia !---I have lov'd you well! Better than ever woman was belov'd Before by man. Now, beauty, hear my last, My last request. Sew When you shall hear of poor Gonzaga's death, I can no more-one kiss, and then farewell; Farewell for ever, love Julia. Hold, tempter, hold! (Going.) Julia is thine; her tender heart would burst To see thy wretchedness. All must give way to love, He is a powerful tyrant, who possesses Dreadful supremacy o'er all our hearts. * £ Gonzaga. Thanks, love, ten thousand thanks, for thy kind speech; I would reward you, if 'twere possible: Yet how can I reward you: as the last, With two fleet steeds, to bear you hence away Unto his father's court. Julia. I know not what. Must it be so, Gonzaga ? Gonzaga. It must, indeed; 501 90 ་་་ Throbs in my bosom---this is the first act Gonzaga. Sweet By the grey mantle of the morning shrouded, 曩 Gonzaga. Till then auspicious fates attend you. [Exeunt JULIA, ISABELLA, and Gonzaga. SFORZA and CONTARINO advance. Sforza. My breast boils out with fury 3 can it be? My daughter, like some courtezan, has giv'n 2 Herself unto the first who woo'd her---are my ears And all my hopes reduced to this ?ESTIAL VIDOя HHT As something alien to the line of Sforza, T 1 Contarino. But you will stop this assignation, prince, Where love and lust persuade her, I will follow To which she's linked herself---and not a scion Contarino. My lord, I am obedient. END OF ACT I. THE RIVALS. IN Grosvenor-square, not long ago, To a kind of intellectual show, A rout for conversation. Shells, fossils, books, the last new piece, [Exeunt separately. While statues, bearing lamps from Greece, Women of genius, men of sense, Who is that lady? What a throng What buzzing, laughing, what a tongue! Of wit refin'd, of talents rare, In compliment, the talking fair And who comes here so full of grace, What eyes, what hair! Gods, what a face! Her teeth how pearly white! Presto! A host of swains are seen oldal Obsequious at her side; And the heart's homage, mind, and mien, toonport Now equally divide. An hour scarce past, lo! dazzling wit And radiant Beauty pouting sit On a deserted throne. What fascination's this, what spell big Draws all the crowd out yonder; Who is this new, attractive belle ? I ask in eager wonder. ..." She doesn't seem pretty, young she's not"- **** Why, zounds! sir, don't you know she's got A hundred thousand pounds?" THE ROCKY LABYRINTH OF ADERSBACH, IN BOHEMIA. THE village of Adersbach, in Bohemia, situated in a valley, at the foot of the Giant Mountains, at the extreme confines of Silesia, is cele brated for the extraordinary groups of rock which rise in its environs, and extend, though with frequent interruptions, as far as Heuscheuer. The village borders on a most beautiful mead, watered by a small rivulet, which has its source in the midst of this rocky labyrinth. It is bounded on the south by large masses of rock which stand upright, contiguous to each other, and separated only by crevices of different widths. The greater number of them are one hundred feet high or upwards, and present forms which are singularly diversified. Some of them resemble works of art, as columns, walls, towers; some are bounded at the top by irregular curve lines, though their sides are as perpendicular as if they had been cut by a level. Others are bent in all directions, and their craggy summits, which hang in the air, threaten to descend every moment from their perilous abode. Some of them stand upon an immense base, and diminish as they rise, while others retain the same uniform dimensions from their bases to their summits. The bases of many of them are rounded by the action of the waters. The most remarkable of these rocks is that commonly called the inverted sugar loaf, an appellation which sufficiently designates its singular form; and many isolated pillars which, though only a few feet in diameter at the base, elevate themselves amid their compeers, like a range of chimnies. The moment we enter this labyrinth, we perceive on all sides groups of rock, which surprize us the more, because we are not in a situation to examine their height and extent. They encircle a beautiful mead, which may be considered the vestibule of the labyrinth. An old honest forester generally serves as guide to those, whose curiosity leads them to explore this romantic labyrinth. They follow a path which is covered, in many places, with sand and rubbish form ed from fragments of the rock. This path, which is sometimes twenty feet wide, and sometimes not more than two, continues its course through innumerable windings between the perpendicular groups, and those masses which, like walls, enclose them on the right and left. A person is frequently obliged to crawl across the intervals, above which the rocks lean one against the other. The imagination of the old conductor has discovered in the most irregular masses resemblances to a palace, a church, a monastery, a pulpit, and an infinity of other objects. By this happy discovery, he hopes to render them more worthy the observation of the curious. In this labyrinth, a person is obliged to go continually zigzag, one time he walks on the naked sand, at another on the moss and flowery turf: at one time he passes under low saplings, at another, he pursues the course of little rivulets, whose smooth and limpid waters follow the multiplied sinuosities of their course. These little streams are, in many places, provided with little bridges, or crossed by planks, for the convenience of those who explore this little mysterious world. After journeying about a league and a half, the traveller arrives at a place, extremely cool and agreeable, ornamented with saplings, hung with all sorts of mosses and plants, and closed up, on all sides, by tremendous rocks. The loud murmuring of a rivulet, which precipitates from a sort of basin, adds an inexpressible charm to the delights of this solitude. Underneath two lofty saplings, near a fountain as cool and transparent as imagination can conceive, stands a table, a bench, and some seats formed out of the rock. This place is frequently rendered the scene of festive happiness; and is frequently greeted by morning visitants who come to breakfast there. The repast is rendered delicious by the agreeable coolness of the place, which invigorates the animal faculties in a surprising manner. From this resting-place there is an ascent by a narrow opening. The way is difficult, as it leads over heaps of sand, produced by the wrecks continually falling from the rocks, and which are as friable as the ashes near the crater of a volcano, for at every step the traveller loses half to the north of the little town of Reinerz. In approaching the delightful and sinks in the uncertain his feet, mountainrection, a most But when he arrives at the top, he is more than recompensed by the sight of a cascade which precipitates from the summit of the rocks. The water falls, in its first descent, from a height of twenty feet, on a rock which impedes its perpendicular course, glides afterwards down a gentle descent, and completes its course by flinging itself into the lower basin. Near this stream the rocks have formed a dark and lofty vault, which presents a most majestic and terrible aspect. It is a work of many days to traverse all the different paths which cross this labyrinth, but next to the natural beauties which we have already described, is an ancient castle in ruins, situated in the midst of those masses of rock, and which, in all probability, served as an asylum for robbers. The guide, before he takes leave of his company, generally fires a pistol near the narrow opening by which it is entered. The sound, which is reverberated and encreased by the distant echoes, resembles the rumbling sound of thunder. The learned are generally agreed as to the origin of the singular forms of these rocks. They imagine that the whole space which they cover was formerly a mountain of sand, and that a violent irruption of water, forcing a passage through the parts which were less compact, carried them away, and left, consequently, deep spaces between the solid masses. Such is the general opinion, but it is still doubtful whether the effect, has proceeded from a sudden irruption, and whether it may not be more naturally traced to that slow but unremitting action of nature, which metamorphoses every thing after a certain lapse of time, though its immediate agency excites no attention. The mountain known by the name of Heuscheuer, or Heuschaar, forming the southern extremity of this chain, is in Silesia, in the county of Glatz, about two miles and a half north-east of the town of this name, and a mile and opens at its feet. It is difficult to reach it on this side, though considerable efforts were t made in 1763, to facilitate the access. The traveller passes constantly over ledges of rocks which are detached and laid one over another, in all directions. Some of them are as large as houses, others equal churches in magnitude, nor can imagination give its creations a greater diversity of form than these rocks present. The greater part of the rocks are naked, but at a considerable height we meet a space which has been called the garden, and which contains trees and plants of various kinds. The rocks lift themselves all around, piled one over another. On the summit of Tafelstein, which is one of the most elevated, there is a most interesting and romantic prospect. 1 The rock on which it is fixed is cut perpendicular, like a wall at a depth of many hundred feet, and extends through various windings along the frontiers of Bohemia. A balustrade has been erected there, in consequence of its being honoured with a visit by the Prince of Prussia. This balustrade leads to the very extremity of the rock, where the spectator may contemplate with security the delightful prospect which opens before him, in all directions. Under his feet he beholds the lofty mountains extending south and west, and presenting summits which are sometimes rounded, and sometimes terminated in a point. The extensive prospect carries the eye of the spectator over the distant Braunau,t Nachod, and a great number of other places in Bohemia, immortalized by the annals of the thirty, and of the 'seven years' war. The traveller has some difficulty however, in believing that he has Bohemia actually before him, for at this immense height the mountains, which separate the towns, castles, villages, and convents, disappear from the sight, so that he imagines he perceives nothing but a level and extensive plain. |