yet instead of paying contempt with contempt, he is ready to commit a horrible crime in order to enable himself to re-enter their society. His lack of self-command, however, is so exaggerated and his nervousness so evident, that no one can be in doubt of his guilt, which is made only too clear by several incidents long before his name is read on the dagger. On one occasion his intended son-in-law tells him, much to his agitation, that a Moor has mysteriously whispered to him that De Zelos is a villain. When the unknown champion of Manuel then is defeated, he beckons De Zelos to him and, for a moment, discloses his face, which is black—at the sight of which De Zelos, ‘staggering with horror,’ falls into the arms of his son. This penitent Moor, whom De Zelos had hired to slay Alonzo, then appears to have travelled, wounded, to the ancient family-seat of his victim, thus adding to the number of people who, as if by appointment, are gathering there to die. As for the two heroines—who, according to the promise of the author, do not much occupy themselves with thoughts of love—they are so negligently treated that it is not quite clear what becomes of them. When Ximena reveals her discovery to Torrismond, she is said to be dying, but it is never explained why. Her fate is so obscure that the unknown writer of the witty epilogue to Manuel, after enumerating all the deaths occurring in the play, ends with the following reference to her:
Here doth the mourner, sad Ximena, lie
In death;—but hold!—one question—Did she die?
What tho’ she fell, and rail’d on life’s restraint,
Women talk thus who only mean to faint.
Well, then, for her we’ll e’en delay our sorrow,
Till critics ascertain her fate to-morrow;
And, if you please, to fix the matter quite,
I’ll meet you here again to-morrow night.
The most depressing quality of Manuel, as a production of Maturin’s, is that its poetry certainly is ‘no great things.’ There is nothing of the breath of romance which runs through several passages of Bertram. The language is, for the most part, uninspired, and stored with hackneyed phrases and vulgar exclamations. A description of the battle of Osma, spoken by Manuel, was greatly admired by Alaric Watts,[100] but to a modern reader it is hardly enjoyable, as appears from the following fragment: