R370930A. Strafford.
The Dramatic Spectator, 30 September 1837, pp. 77–79.
As reprinted in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 3, 415.
After the somewhat original article on this tragedy in the recent number of the Edinburgh Review, ascribed to a certain learned judge, wherein the writer endeavours to be witty and stupid at the same time, and succeeds only in the latter attempt, it is not our intention to do more than cull a few full-blown beauties which have escaped the jaundiced eye of the blue and yellow Whigamore.
As the author himself had no idea of any plot, it is not to be presumed that we can be wiser than he is, and therefore we shall not trouble our readers with any speculative opinion upon the subject, but we cannot refrain from observing that there is a certain individual called Charles the first introduced, who is a great adept in the unknown tongues, and frequently indulges in such soliloquies as the present.
Charles. He is my friend, sir: I have wronged him: mark you,
Had I not wronged him—this might be!—You think
Because you hate the Earl .... (turn not away— [p. 78→]
We know you hate him)—no one else could love
Strafford .... but he has saved me—many times—
Think what he has endured .... proud too .... you feel
What he endured! We all have used that man
As though he had been ours .... with not a source
Of happy thoughts except in us .... and yet
Strafford has children, and a home as well,
Just as we had never been! .... Ah! sir,
You are moved—you—a solitary man
Wed to your cause—to England if you will!
This is very fine and intelligible, but we doubt much if it be original. In brevity of expression, but certainly not in clearness of meaning, it resembles the scene in the Critic in which Tilburina endeavours to overcome the scruples of her father, the Governor:
Til. A retreat in Spain!
Gov. Outlawry here!
Til. Your daughter’s prayer!
Gov. Your father’s oath!
Til. My lover!
Gov. My country!
Til. Tilburina!
Gov. England!
Til. A title!
Gov. Honour!
Til. A pension!
Gov. A pension!
Til. A thousand pounds!
Gov. Hah! thou hast touched me nearly!
We agree with Strafford that it would be a horrid thing
________to have
A heart of stone—of smooth, cold, frightful stone!
and it was just as well to leave the Scots and English, as he expresses himself,
In the dark about it all.
Mr Browning has very successfully appropriated certain homely phrases, and by a slight alteration [p. 79→] made them quite poetical. For instance, he says, “You with the heart,” in place of “You with the nose.”—“How are you off for troops?” instead of “How are you off for soap?” cum multis aliis.
Some of the stage directions are fearful, and must, during the representation, have thrown ma[n]y of the female auditors into hysterics. For instance that appal[l]ing scene where “St[r]afford tears off his George” and dashes it to the ground, exclaiming
That as I tread this gewgaw under foot
I cast his memory from me!—one stroke now!
We observe the Edinburgh reviewer refers to this passage as being very fine, and so it is, if we only knew what it meant.
It is understood that the ex-legislator, Dr Bowring, who has now been kindly relieved of his parliamentary duties by his constituents, is about to translate this historical tragedy into English, and dedicate it to his kind patron the King of the French, who doubtless will take deep interest in the fall of Charles 1st.
By the way there is a curious speculation in the literary world, which we deem it our duty to notice; the ostensible author of the tragedy is Browning—now we have been informed by Glenlonely, that Browning is in the Magyar language the same as Bowring. Query, is the legislator and the dramatist the same individual?
Reviewed:
Strafford (RB), London: Longman, Rees, Orme, Brown, Green, 1837.
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