anything the writer has yet given us. Heretofore we have only had quiet, reflective, passive emotion: now we have a storm and sweep of passion for which we were quite unprepared. Ribera’s character is charged like a thunder-cloud with dramatic elements. Maria Rosa is the child of her father, fired at a flash, " deaf, dumb, and
blind " at the touch of passion.
" Does love steal gently o er our soul ? "
she asks;
"What if he come,
A cloud, a fire, a whirlwind ? "
and then the cry:
"O my God!
This awful joy in mine own heart is love."
Again:
"While you are here the one thing real to me
In all the universe is love."
Exquisitely tender and refined are the love scenes—at the ball and in the garden—between the dashing prince-lover in search of his pleasure and the devoted girl with her heart in her eyes, on her lips, in her hand. Behind them, always like a tragic fate, the sombre figure of the Spagnoletto, and over all the glow and color and soul of Italy.
In 1881 appeared the translation of Heine’s poems and ballads, which was generally accepted
