Fulfil thine office, since my doom is seal'd, For these are offices become thee well! Yes, tyrant, go! Thou could'st not to the last Thus, then, at last I see myself exil'd, Thus, at the very last, with cunning words, I must consent forsooth to idleness, Odious appear'd the dark conspiracy Which ceaseless round me wove its viewless web, But still more odious does it now appear! And, thou too, Siren! who so tenderly Did'st lead me on with thy celestial mien, But we so willingly deceive ourselves, Still hon'ring reprobates that honour us. True men are never to each other known; Such knowledge is reserv'd for galley-slaves [After a pause. And holds his neighbour for a rascal too, Such men as these perchance may know each other. How long thine hallow'd image from my gaze And then the little, cunning go-between! ANTONIO. I hear thee with amazement, though I know Thou speakest slander, dost indulge in words TASSO. Oh, speak not to me with a gentle lip, May not regain my senses, but to lose them. These sland'rous words are but the feeble cry, ANTONIO. In thine extremity I will not leave thee; TASSO. And must I then Yield myself up a prisoner to thee? Now let mine anguish'd heart recall how fair And now they're gone-estrang'd from me they're gone. That I could only falter out "forgive!" Yes, I will go! That I could hear him say,-"go, thou'rt forgiven!" I am rejected, doom'd to banishment! To hear that gentle voice, that tender glance To meet no more ANTONIO. Yet hear the voice of one, Who, not without emotion, stands beside thee! TASSO. And am I then as wretched as I seem? Am I as weak as I do show myself? Say, is all lost? Has sorrow's direful stroke, As with an earthquake's sudden shock, transform'd Is all the genius flown that did erewhile So richly charm, and so exalt my soul? Is all the power extinguish'd which of yore ANTONIO. Though to thyself thou seemest so forlorn, Be calm, and bear in mind what still thou art! TASSO. Ay, in due season thou remindest me! Hath history no example for mine aid? Before me doth there rise no man of worth The cry of anguish, when the man at length To me a God hath given to tell my grief. [Antonio approaches him and takes his hand. TASSO. Oh, noble friend, thou standest firm and calm, She sends her storm, the passive wave is driven, Upon its heaving bosom gently rest. Dimm'd is the splendour, vanish'd is the calm!- Nor am I now ashamed of the confession. The helm is broken, and on ev'ry side The reeling vessel splits. The riven planks, Bursting asunder, yawn beneath my feet! Thus with my outstretch'd arms I cling to thee! So doth the shipwreck'd mariner at last, Cling to the rock whereon his vessel struck. Even in this inadequate analysis the reader will perceive the ground there is for Madame de Stael's remark that "les couleurs du Midi ne sont pas assez prononcées." The piece is indeed thoroughly German; and whatever the amount of historical detail woven into it, the spirit is throughout unlike that of Italy in the days of Tasso. The Princess is a purely German figure, analysing her feelings more than she indulges in them; and Tasso, with his vacillations and reflections, would have astonished no one more than the real Torquato, whose wayward, passionate, impetuous nature would have despised the reflective, selfinterrogating German. Nor would he have at all understood the German's conception of poetry as the urn wherein are contained the ashes of past sufferings, the confidant of secret thoughts. Obliged to employ a thin disguise in the expression of his sentiments for the Princess, Tasso employed a disguise as transparent as possible; and in other matters employed no disguise at all. LEWES, VOL. II. 7 CHAPTER X. THE POET AS A MAN OF SCIENCE. TASSO was completed shortly after the rupture with the Frau von Stein. He then began the study of Kant. The Kritik der reinen Vernunft is written in an esoteric language he was quite unable to follow; and could he have followed it, the matter was more metaphysical than suited his tendencies; but he read in it, as he read in Spinoza; and the Kritik der Urtheilskraft, especially in its æsthetical sections, greatly interested him. Kant was a means of bringing him nearer to Schiller, who still felt the difference between them to be profound; as we see in what he wrote to Körner: "His philosophy draws too much of its material from the world of the senses, where I only draw from the soul. His mode of presentation is altogether too sensuous for me. But his spirit works and seeks in every direction, striving to create a whole, and that makes him in my eyes a great man." Remarkable indeed is the variety of his strivings. After completing Tasso, we find him writing on the Roman Carnival, and on Imitation of Nature, and studying with strange ardour the mysteries of botany and optics. In poetry it is only necessary to name the Roman Elegies, to show what productivity in that direction he was capable of; although, in truth, his poetical activity was then in subordination to his activity in science. He was, socially, in an unpleasant condition; and, as he subsequently confessed, would never have been able to hold out, had it not been for his studies of Art and Nature. In all times these were his refuge and consolation. On Art, the world listened to him attentively. On Science, |