DER FREISCHÜTZ.

(Subject of the Plate.)

DER FREISCHÜTZ! we are positively surfeited with the name. For the last two or three months, the whole metropolis has been in a complete state of Freischützation: its ravages have extended with the rapidity and virulence of the plague; and, even at this moment, we believe, the disorder is scarcely at its height. 'Tis nothing but Freischütz, morning, noon, and night. At breakfast, our young cousins, Jane and Sophia, who have come. to town from Barnstaple, expressly to see Der Freischütz, do nothing but talk of its wonders; we mean nothing but that and eat muffins.These country-girls have excessively vulgar appetites. "Bless me," says Jane, "did you ever see such a monstrous owl as the one which stood flapping its wings all the time Killian was casting the bullets? and the bats too, why they are five times as big as the bats that fly about our old church-tower: don't you think they are, cousin Toby?" Then follows a long train of interrogatives, from our other amiable cousin. First, we must tell her the meaning of the word Freischütz, and whether it is pronounced Free-is-cuts, or Free-is-chutz; next, we must say whether we do not think Mr. Pearman an ugly man but a pretty singer, and Mr. Bennet an ugly singer but a pretty man; and then, we must tell her if Weber, the musician, is the same Mr. Webber who taught the young ladies the piano-forte at the Bideford boarding-school.

Thus passes our breakfast; the tea-board is removed, and in steps our niece Juliana on a morning call upon her friends from the country. "Ah Sophy, my dear, good morning to you. Jane, how d'ye do? why, I declare, you both look exceedingly pale; I suppose you were seeing Der Freischütz last night? Oh! my dear girls, I've brought you such a beautiful copy of the overture; it's just come outMr. Ling arranged it-You never saw Mr. Ling.-Oh! he's a charming man! and so clever; you should hear him play the bridal chorus." During this harangue, not a word of which is less than a semiquaver, we amuse ourselves with glancing over the morning paper, and reading, for the fiftieth time, an account of Der Freischütz; an occupation in which we are disturbed by a pat on the shoulder from our amiable niece, and a continuation of her oration.-"Yes, Uncle Merton, the bridal chorus; the music is delightful; and you are very wrong if you don't get it engraved, and put into the Literary Magnet."-" Ay," says Jane, " and I wonder cousin does not get an engraving of that horrible scene with the great dragon, and the bats, and the death's heads.". "And I," adds Sophy, "should like to read the tale itself, if Cousin Toby would only put it into English; I can't bear the look of those long, ricketty, German words, they all seem, to me, to have the St. Vitus's dance-it really makes one's ears sore to endeavour to pronounce them."

Thus we are pestered morning after morning; and as we have no hopes of speedily getting rid of Der Freischütz, or our niece, or our cousins, we are determined to be annoyed with no farther entreaties; so here is an abstract of the tale; and the scene and the music will be found in another part of the number.

London. William Charlton Wright, 65. Pater Noster Row.

THE TALE.

This

THE chief personages in this remarkable tale, are Bertram, an old forester of Linden Anne, his wife; Kate, their daughter; William, her sweatheart; Robert, his rival; a mysterious stranger, with a wooden leg; and the devil. Bertram is in the vassalage of Duke somebody, and possesses a farm, which has been in the family for more than two hundred years. The farm was first granted to one Kuno, Bertram's great grandfather's father, as a reward for his having performed an extraordinary feat as a marksman. dexterity brought upon Kuno the envy and ill-will of his neighbours; from which, it seems, the world was just as wicked two hundred years ago, as it is at the present time. Well, these abominable neighbours did what many of our own neighbours would do under similar circumstances; they endeavoured to persuade the Duke that Kuno's shot had hit the mark through witchcraft and black arts. So hereupon a regulation was made, and from this the custom came, that every descendant of Kuno must undergo a trial and fire what they call his probationary shot before he is admitted tenant.

Bertram, having no son, naturally looked forward to some clever fellow for a son-in-law, laying it down as a law, that the being a good shot, was an indispensable qualification in him who should hope to become the husband of his daughter. In looking round, as all prudent fathers ought to do, for such an appendage to Kate's comforts (we consider it highly improper to leave these matters to the daughters themselves), his glance fell upon Robert the hunter, and---there it rested. Well, Robert was to be the husband, and would have been, but for one trifling circumstance. Kate was in love with somebody else (oh! the vile creature), and this somebody else was William, the Bailiff's clerk.

William's talent lay in driving a quill, but Bertram wanted a man who could drive a bullet-poor Kate wanted a husband. Bertram was incorrigible on the subject of a marks

man.

"But," said he, "it's not altogether Robert that I care about. I don't stand upon trifles and, if the man is not to your taste or the girl's, why look out any other active huntsman that may take my office betimes, and give us a comfortable fire-side in our old age: Robert, or not Robert, so that it be a lad of the forest ;" and, taking his gun, off he trudged to the forest. This was a very necessary measure, in order to avoid the long arguments of Anne in favour of her daughter and William. Scarcely had he turned the corner of the house, when a rosy light-haired face looked in at the door. It was Katherine : smiling and blushing, she stopped for a moment in agitation, and said :---" Have you succeeded, mother? was it yes, dear mother?" Then, bounding into the room, she fell on her mother's neck for an answer.

Ah, Kate, be not too confident when thou should'st be prepared for the worst: thy father is a good man, as good as ever stepped, but he has his fancies; and he is resolved to give thee to none but a hunter: he has set his heart upon it; and he'll not go from his word; I know him too well."

Katherine wept, and vowed she would rather die than part from her William; whilst her mother comforted and scolded her by turns; and at length ended, by joining her tears to her daughter's. At this moment, in stepped William himself, who was soon told Bertram's determination relative to his future son-in-law; and, for the first time, learned that the old man, simply with a view to the reversionary interest in his place as forester, insisted on Kate's looking out for a husband who understood hunting. William now explained to them that he had formerly been apprenticed to his uncle, Finsterbuch, the forester-general; "and," said he, "if your father wants a huntsman, let me die if I wont quit my clerkship this instant, and take to my gun and the forest."

This declaration pleased the mother and daughter exceedingly, and off William started to find out Bertram, and make known to him his determination. This, he appears to have done most effectually; for, on the old man's return, he exclaimed, Upon my soul, but this William's a fine fellow! Who the deuce would have ever looked for such a good shot in the flourisher of a crow-quill? Well, to-morrow I shall speak with the Bailiff myself, for, it would be a sad pity, if he were not to pursue the noble profession of hunting."

In a fortnight, William, who had acquitted himself so well in the capacity of a huntsman, received Bertram's formal consent to his marriage with Katherine. This promise, however, was to be kept secret until the day of the probationary shot. As this important day approached, William began to fail in his skill as a marksman; and though he redoubled his attention and diligence, he nearly missed every shot. An old huntsman, called Rudolph, swore there was a spell in the affair. This opinion was laughed at; "but," said Rudolph, "take my word for it, William, it is just what I tell you. Go some Friday at midnight to a cross-road, and make a circle round about you with a ram-rod or a bloody sword; bless it three times in the same words the priest uses, but in the name of Samiel---”

VOL. III.-PART XV.

C

"Hush!" interrupted the forester angrily "dost know what that name is? why, he's one of Satan's host. God keep thee and all Christians out of his power!"

William crossed himself, and would hear no more; but Rudolph persisted in his opinion. All night long he continued to clean his gun, to examine the screws, the spring, and every part of the lock and barrel; and, at break of day, he sallied forth to try his luck once more. But all in vain his pains were thrown away, and so were his bullets. Cursing his hard fate, he threw himself despondingly beneath a tree; at that moment a rustling was heard in the bushes, and out limped an old soldier with a wooden leg.

Or has

"Good morning to you, comrade," said the soldier, " 'why so gloomy, why so gloomy? Is it body or purse that's ailing, health or wealth is it that you're sighing for? somebody put a charm upon your gun? Come, give us a bit of tobacco; and let's have a little chat together."

With a surly air William gave him what he asked for, and the soldier threw himself by his side on the grass. The conversation fell on hunting, and William related his own bad luck. "Let me see your gun," said the soldier. "Ah! I thought so: this gun has been charmed, and you'll never get a true aim with it again: and, more than that, let me tell you, if the charm was laid according to the rules of art, you'll have no better luck with any other gun you take in hand."

William shuddered; but the stranger offered to bring the question to a simple test. Now, here," said he, " for instance, is a ball that cannot fail to go true; because its a gifted ball, and is proof against all the arts of darkness. Just try it now. I'll answer for it." William loaded his piece, and levelled at a large bird of prey, which hovered at an immense height above the forest, like a speck. He fired, the black speck was seen rapidly descending; and a great vulture fell bleeding to the ground.

"Oh! that's nothing at all," said the soldier, observing the speechless astonishment of his companion, "not worth speaking of. It's no such great matter to learn how to cast balls as good as these; little more is wanted than some slight matter of skill, and a stout heart; for the work must be done in the night. I'll teach you and welcome, if we should meet again. Meantime here's a few braces of my balls for you," and so saying, he limped off. Filled with astonishment, William tried a second of the balls, and again he hit an object at an incredible distance: he then charged with his ordinary balls, and missed the broadest and most obvious mark. On this second trial, he determined to go after the old soldier; but the soldier had disappeared in the depths of the forest.

In a few days William had so familiarized himself to the use of his enchanted balls, that he no longer regarded it with those misgivings which he at first felt in firing them. But his stock of balls was at length exhausted, and day after day he watched with intense anxiety for his old acquaintance, the soldier, with the wooden leg, or rather for the wooden leg with a soldier on it. His search, however, was without success. Nobody, of whom he inquired, had seen any such man as he had described. "Be it so then!" said William internally, "the days that remain for my purpose are numbered. This very night I will go to the crossroad in the forest. It is a lonely spot; nobody will be there to witness my nocturnal labours and I'll take care not to quit the circle till my work is done."

William provided himself with lead, bullet-mould, coals, and all other requisites, that he might be enabled to slip out of the house after supper; but the old forester prevented him from leaving the house that evening. The second night came, but, unfortunately, an uncle of William's came also, so that he was again prevented from going to the forest on his proposed awful expedition. As the clock struck twelve, he was reminded, with horror, of the business he had neglected. "Just one night more," thought he, "one single night remains; to-morrow, or never!" His violent agitation did not escape his uncle's notice; but the old man ascribed it to some little weariness in his nephew, and good-naturedly apologised for having engaged him so long in conversation, by pleading his early departure, which he could not possibly put off beyond the first dawn of the next morning.

The third night came. Whatever was to be done---must be done, for the next was the day of trial. From morning to night had old Anne, with her daughter Kate, bustled about the house, to make arrangements for the suitable reception of her dignified guest, the commissioner. At nightfall every thing was ready. Anne embraced William on his return from the forest, and, for the first time, saluted him with the endearing name of son. The eyes of Kate sparkled with the tender emotions of a youthful bride. The table was decked with festal flowers, and viands, more luxurious than usual, were brought out by the mother.

"This night," said Bertram, "we will keep the bridal feast: to-morrow we shall not be alone; and cannot, therefore, sit so confidentially and affectionately together; let us be happy then---as happy as if all the pleasures of our lives were to be crowded into this one night."

This was, no doubt, an exceedingly pleasant arrangement to every body, except William.