MISS CHAPM•N'S TRANSLATION OF KING RENi'S DAUGHTER.

KING ERNE, Count of Provence, well known for his literary and philoso- phical studies and a taste for simple pleasures, had a daughter named 'Menthe, who was married to a son of the Count de Vaudemont. The courtship of these lovers is the subject of Hertz's drama ; but he has adhered to history no further than the fact of the marriage and its politi- cal objects. The mode in which he has sought to give interest and variety to so barren a theme as a royal match of convenience, is by making Iolanthe blind from her infancy. Her nativity, however, has been cast by her father's favourite Moorish physician and astrologer, Ebeu Jahia; and there is a hope that she may recover her sight under certain conditions. To guard the Princess from the misery of feeling her privation, it is determined to hide from her knowledge that there is such a thing as sight. For this purpose, she is immured in a species of happy valley, till the critical day when spells and medicine are to restore her eyesight or leave her blind for ever. On this day the drama opens and closes ; the unities of time and place being rigidly observed by Hertz. One of the conditions under which her recovery can alone be hoped for, according to Eben Jahia, is her knowledge of the sense in which she is deficient.

" You think the sense of sight lies in the eye; Yet is it but an instrument. Vision comes From out our being's depths. The nerves of sight Rise in the deep recesses of the brain.

Iolanthe needs must clearly recognize

Her state. First must her inward eye be opened, Ere we can wake the sense of outward sight."

To this view the King demurs ; but, whilst they withdraw to debate the question, Tristan, the betrothed, finds his way to the secret valley ; sees Iolanthe; informs her of her blindness ; and, notwithstanding the privation, is so struck with her loveliness that he determines to risk the consequences of refusing Rene's daughter. Iolauthe does recover her sight, and the denouement may readily be divined.

It will be seen that, for a drama according to the English taste, King Renh's Daughter lacks incident and action : nor has it any claim to the title of a " lyrical " drama, beyond the insertion of a few songs. Essen- tially, though not perhaps formally, the piece is a masque ; where the sight, the taste, and the intellect, are appealed to, rather than the passions stirred. For these purposes the subject is not ill adapted; and the author has exhibited considerable ingenuity in treating the metaphysical parts of the question—the thoughts of the blind, unacquainted even with the idea of sight. The conception of Iolanthe is equally able; the execution delicate, tender, and almost touching, in her goodness, con- tent, and what feels like resignation but is simple privation. There are some effective " situations," with scope for able actors,—as where Tristan assails the entrance to the valley at the head of his band, and rushes into Rene's presence to find who is the daughter he has refused ; and in the first scene between Iolanthe and Tristan. But there are also passages that verge upon the ridiculous; for, resting upon sentiments, they seem scarcely chargeable upon the translator. The narratives that tell of what has past, or explain how the actors came where they are, would suggest to an English audience the explanatory dialogue between Sir Walter Raleigh and Sir Christopher Hatton in The Critic; and Sir Gaufred of Orange, the fidus Achates of Tristan, is much too wide awake to the possible dan- gers both natural and supernatural of the concealed valley, for a knight and troubadour. Nor do the elements of the story seem to be used in the most efficient manner for stage purposes ; though the drama is said to have succeeded wonderfully in Copenhagen, and established the author's reputation.

The most dramatic parts of a play are generally the least adapted for quotation. The mind requires to be prepared or warmed for their re- ception by the progress of the story, and the eye to be gratified by scene and gesture, the ear by tone. For extract we select a passage of mingled description and disquisition ; one relating to Iolanthe's state, the other to blindness in general. The speakers are Iolanthe's nurse, and Almerik, a confidential attendant of the King, who is sent to the secret valley that the audience may learn some particulars necessary to be known.

MARTHA.

This is the speech of those whose sense of sight Alone doth guide their steps throughout the world. Even with involuntary gaze ye bend To catch the slightest sound. Even in darkness The reflex of accustom'd light deceives. He who is blind, or bath been blind from childhood, Will never, this is my belief, conceive

That those around him have the sense of vision. What's sight to him? and what conception bath he Of that most wondrous faculty? What our eyes At once inform us of, he doth discover By subtlest sense of touch and hearing—even The unseen undulations of the air—

And thousand other ways, almost beyond

Our comprehension. '1 his you 'II quickly learn, In one hour's converse with her

ALRERIE. I deny not How inly I aspire to such an honour But one thing still doth seem inexplicable:— She dwells among you here, apart from all: Thinks she this vale comprises the whole world?

BERTRAND.

Her lot is not so lonely as perchance You think it. From St. Clara's cloister— Which, as you know, doth lie beyond the mountain—

The visits of the Abbess and her nuns She oft receives. At times also, the King Permits us other friends to entertain.

Arzteatut.

She feels no blank, then? She is well content

To lead a life involving such seclusion? Of all the pomp pertaining to this world, And all its glories, bath not a conjecture? Nor once inquires of it? Marrraza.

In Booth, Sir Knight, It is not easy here to make reply: She possibly represses many a question. She knows there is an entrance to the vale; She hears the bell announce a stranger's coming; Rejoices at it; silently doth listen

In peaceful expectation: but she never

As where the entrance lies, nor where it leads. She knows that there is much she must not seek To learn, but trust for to her elders. 'T is ever thus with children. Do but tell them Of God, of Providence, of life to come, And mark with what unfeign'd astonishment They pay attention, with a wondering gaze; Mark how at first the rising doubt doth cast Its shadow o'er the countenance; and, at last, How they with touching confidence defer To that which is above their grasp of thought.

To Iolanthe seems this universe A mystery, whereon she often ponders: But if the Abbess or the King cloth say, " Be satisfied, my child—too young art thou To comprehend this; thou wilt know hereafter," She piously believes it, and suspects not She lacks the sense of sight to comprehend The world as it appears to us. Sir Almerik ! Is it not possible, that when we meditate Upon another life, we do but wander Like her in darkness—utterly unconscious Of dim and clouded sight? But here our faith Becomes the star that guides us in our night.