The tragedy of Percy is an interesting one in point of incidents, but it wants that ease of dialogue and those fine touches of nature so highly captivating in the standard pieces we have hitherto criticised.

MONIMIA.

The next character which has added to the eclat of Miss O'Neill's dramatic powers, is the Monimia of Otway in his Orphan. This tragedy was an early production of Otway's muse, and was first brought out in 1680. Since that time it has remained a standard piece, though in many parts licentious beyond the bounds of decency, and painting a crime too horrid for the feelings to dwell on. It is written however, with such powers of language, with such force of passion, and with those strong and characteristic traits of the heart in the warm expression of its feelings, which take a deep hold of an audience, and interest them in the highest degree. It is founded, as we have noticed, on a crime at which

human nature revolts with horror; yet so much is felt for the parties, that the extent and nature of the guilt is forgot in the pity which their trying and unmerited situations excite. It is one of those plays where as much depends on the other principal characters as the heroine, and it is difficult on that account often to fill it up as it ought. It partakes in many of its parts, as already noticed, of the licentiousness of the age in which it was written; when, in the words of Johnson, " intrigue was plot, obscenity was wit.” Those parts, however, are very happily supprest in the representation by the more correct judgment of the present day, and the play as now exhibited presents all its beauties without its blemishes.

The character of Monimia is particularly interesting as an orphan and dependent. She feels all the ties of gratitude and affection as the child of adoption in the family where she resides, and betwixt respect for her protector, the friend of her father, and attachment to his youngest son, she has a difficult conflict to maintain. As happens in all cases, where the female character is concerned, passion predominates over every other consideration. Her love for Castalio leads her to deceive his brother, and in so

doing, the revenge of the latter produces that catastrophe which finishes the scene of distress.

It would seem as if Southerne and Otway, both poets of the same age, had formed two tragedies to resemble each other. In both a female is the preSoutherne has given his Isa

dominant character.

bella two husbands, and Otway his Monimia two lovers. Some of the beautiful passages in both plays also nearly resemble each other; particularly the fine simile of the garden as put into the mouth of Chamont, by Otway, in beautiful detail; but more concisely introduced by Southerne in the affecting scene of Isabella and her father. The character of Monimia is not one of very high elevation. She is a young lady of virtue and honour, and in other respects not much is to be said. It therefore only calls for extraordinary exertions towards the conclusion of the catastrophe.

The character of Monimia is drawn by herself,

The interview between her and the brothers be

gins the display of Miss O'Neill's powers, and the manner in which she repeats

"Will you then leave me thus ?"

exhibits high spirit and feeling: the conclusion also, when Castalio persists, is given with a proper mixture of scorn and indignation.

"Then go, and, if it be possible, for ever."

Her reply, likewise, to Polydore, is uncommonly fine.

"For tho' to Fortune lost, I'll still inherit

My mother's virtues, and my father's honour."

Perhaps there is no part of this tragedy so truly pathetic, and uniting with the most affecting images a most admirable simplicity of language, as Chamont's relation of his parent's death to Acasto, and as it gives a greater interest for Monimia, it deserves to be quoted here.

"When our dear parents died, they died together,

One fate surpris'd 'em, and one grave receiv'd 'em ;
My father with his dying breath bequeath'd

Her to my love; my mother, as she lay,

Languishing by him, call'd me to her side,

Took me in her fainting arms, wept, and embrac'd me:
Then press'd me close, and as she observ'd my tears,
Kiss'd them away; said she, Chamont, my son,

By this, and all the love I ever shew'd thee,

Be careful of Monimia; watch her youth;

Let not her wants betray her to dishonour:

Perhaps kind Heav'n may raise some friend. Then sigh'd,
Kiss'd me again; so bless'd us, and expir'd."

It is not properly till the third act that Miss O'Neill's attractions are called into full action, and the scene between her and Castalio, after the advantage taken by Polydore, and each ignorant of the deception, is one of the most finished pieces of stage effect that she has displayed. Her eagerness and joy to meet him, her surprise at his coldnessher fondness and affection in endeavouring to appease him, particularly when she says,

"Oh kill me here, or tell me my offence!
I'll never quit you else; but on these knees,