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In the fhort article of the Neapolitan School, the author has given us fome very pleafing fpecimens of the mufic that was fet to the ruftic and ftreet tunes the kingdom of Naples, which, under the titles of Arie, Cartfonette, Villotte, and Villanelle, alla Napolitana, were as much in fashion all over Europe during the fixteenth century, as Provençal fongs were in preceding times, and Venetian ballads have been fince,' We are informed, that this is the firit fecular music, in parts, after the invention of counterpoint, which the author has been able to discover on the continent; and that, with refpect to air, till the eftablifhment of operas, no better was perhaps produced, than are to be found among the Neapolitan Villanelle.' But, huh! for here comes the celebrated and illuftrious Dilettante, DON CARLO GESUALDO, PRINCE of VENOSA; and our mufical hiftorian thinks it neceflary to stop, and pay his refpecs' to his Highnefs's abilities.' But the manner in which he pays his compliments, reminds us of Rollo the Dane, and his manner of doing homage to Charles the Simple, whom he caught by the foot, and, pretending to lift it to his mouth, that he might kiss it, overturned him before all his courtiers. Indeed, Dr. B. has given this Prince of Muficians, as he calls him, a complete fall, and laid him flat on his back. New melodies, new harmonies, new measures, new modulation,-" fine contrivance, original harmony, and the sweetest modulation conceivable *,”—all of which, and more, have been liberally beftowed on this compofer by writers who have echoed each other; and of all this, our cruel author has completely ftripped him, in three pages of unrelenting criticism;

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· απο μεν φιλα ἑιματ ̓ ἐδυσε,

Χλαιναν τ', ήδε χιτωνα, τα τ' αίδω ἀμφικαλυπτει!

We feel a little for the honour of dilettanteship; but he muft be bolder than we are, who ventures to oppofe any thing to mufical criticifm, of fo good authority in itself, and fo ably supported by stubborn fact, in the fpecimen of a madrigal a 5 voci, which Dr. B. has given, and which appears, even at the first glance, to be full of unprincipled confufion, and the random fplashes of the Spruzzarino; where "Flats meet sharps, and joftle in the dark."

In CLAUDIO MONTEVERDE, the laft interefting harmonift recorded in this chapter, we have an innovator of a very different ftamp; for his licences and audacities, though railed at, as every attempt to outftrip contemporaries and fride beyond the age in which we live, will, at all times, infallibly be, were juftified by fuccefs and adoption. As the innovations of

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Monteverde form a memorable epoch in the hiftory of the art,' Dr. B. who does not content himself, on thofe occafions, with vague and general affertions, has told us precifely in what they confifted. He was, it feems, the firft compofer who made ufe of double difcords, such as the 2, 2, and 7; and venturing beyond the pale of ecclefiaftical modulation in his fecular productions, he determined the key of each movement, fmoothed and phrafed the melody, and made all his parts fing in a more natural and flowing manner than had been done by any of his predeceffors. The example of Monteverde's new difcords in 5 parts, which the author has given by itself, for the convenience of the reader's infpection, is taken from the madrigal which follows, p. 239, at the words,-non puo morir, &c. The whole compofition is fuch, as will make the mufical ftudent ample amends for the trouble of a clofe examination at his harpfichord.

From Italy, the hiftorian proceeds to trace, in the four subfequent chapters, the improvements which the art received, about the fame time, in other parts of Europe; in Germany, France, Spain, and the Netherlands. Much curious information, and many entertaining particulars, contained in these chapters, we muft leave unnoticed, that we may have it in our power to enter, in greater detail, on the more interefting fubjects of the chapters which follow. We cannot, however, omit to recommend to the attention of the mufical reader two Specimens given in the feventh chapter; both admirable, though in very different ftyles: the one, a madrigal in 4 parts by ARCHADELT, which, from the richness, clearness, and comparative fimplicity of its harmony, appears to us to be a model in its kind; the other, a Latin fong, a 4, by ORLANDO DI LASSO, who, we are told, was one of the firft who hazarded what are now called chromatic paffages,' and has here an honourable niche affigned him among those masters, who, in the language of their contemporaries, corrupted, and in that of their fucceffors, improved, the art; prepared the colours, and furnished the mufician's pallet with many new tints of harmony and modulation, which were of great ufe to fubfequent compofers, particularly in dramatic painting."

Among many judicious obfervations which occur in the courfe of this chapter, and particularly in the articles of Orlando di Laffo, and the ftill bolder innovator, Cipriano di Rore, every reader of taste will, we doubt not, affent to the truth of the following reflections on the difficulty of being at once new and natural: p. 315.

Many of the forced, crude, and unexpected modulations in the motet of Cyprian Rore, however they may have been admired for

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their boldnefs and novelty, were never adopted by fubfequent compofers. Beautiful, natural and pleafing paffages and effects, are foon rendered common by plagiarism and imitation; whereas the unnatural and difficult are long left in the poffeffion of the original proprietor. Perhaps in a feries of years fome other compofer, unable to attonith by his inventions in a natural way, and determined to produce fomething that fhall, at leaft, feem new, will propose them again to the public, who will again reject, and so on, ad infiniBut thefe mufical hunters after novelty, without genius to find it, forget that fuch paffages or modulations must have prefented themselves to thousands in the course of their ftudies and ricercate, but that good tafte and found judgment had rejected them. It is at all times eafy to produce new arrangements and combinations of founds, if nature, grace, and propriety be renounced; but at once to be new and natural, belongs only to genius of the first order.' [To be continued.]

tum.

ART. II. The Tragedies of Sophocles tranflated.

TH

1. 1s. Boards. Robinfons. 1788.

PP. 583.

HE author of this tranflation gives us the following account of it in his preface:

In works of literature, the public is little interested in the motives of the writer; yet fome account of this tranflation may be neceffary: it was often requested of me immediately after the publi-' cation of Euripides; but I wished to leave Dr. Franklin in the undifturbed poffeffion of his well-acquired reputation, and declined the attempt, il a perfon, of illuftrious rank, and more illuftrious for mental accomplishments, did me the honour to defire that I would give the English reader all that remains of the Tragic Mufe of Greece; a request from fuch a person, and the manner in which it was communicated to me, could not be refused. I undertook the work as a task, fenfible of its difficulty, and even defpairing of my power to exprefs the propriety, the fweetnefs, the harmony, the force, and the dignity of Sophocles: as I advanced, I was not wholly diffatisfied with my felf; from a task it became an amusement, and then a pleasure to me. This tranflation profeffes to be faithful to the original; and I flatter my felf that it is in no small degree correct; this it owes to a learned friend, who did me the favour to revife it; with his tafte and judgement I am well acquainted, and I confide in his integrity. My own attention and exertions have not been wanting, as it has been my ambition to make it worthy of the noble perfon to whom it owes its existence, and of the public to which it is now prefented.'

When we give this tranflation the praife of fidelity, it is all that we can afford; if that can be called faithful, which does not always do complete juftice to the fenfe of the original. From fuch a work, we may infer, that the author understands Greek, but we cannot fay that he has well executed his task, because, in a good tranflation, it is required to convey into a different language the thoughts and fentiments of the original writer, in

their native beauty. Mr. Potter's undertaking, indeed, was an arduous one; especially in attempting to render the Greek verfes into an equal number of English. His performance is lefs a paraphrafe than Franklin's; but his diction is not always poetic, and is often scarcely grammatical; and to underftand his meaning, we muft fometimes have recourfe to the original.

After his tranflation of Efchylus, Mr, Potter would, perhaps, have done wifely had he repofed on his laurels. To juftify this opinion, we need only infert the firft fcene of Antigone.. ANTIGONE, ISMENE.

Antigone. My fifter, loved Ifmene, of the ills,

Ijmene.

Which jprung from Oedipus conceives thy thought
One by the hand of Jove not brought on us
His fole furviving children? There is nought
That finks the foul with anguish, deep diftrefs,
Shame, and difgrace, but in thy ills and mine
I fee it all. E'en now what new decree
Is rumour'd by the Chief as late proclaim'd

Through all the city? Know'it thou? Haft thou heard?
Or art thou unacquainted with the ills

Which from our foes advance against our friends?
To me no tidings of our friends are come,

Pleafing or mournful, fince the fatal hour
At once depriv'd us of our brothers, flain
Each by the other's hand; and this last night
The flaughtering sword bath quell'd the Argive hoft;
Further than this I know not, nor have heard
Aught of good fortune or affiction more.
Antigone. I know it well, and call'd thee forth before
The palace gates, that thou may't hear alone.

Imene. What is it? Dark and troubled feem thy thoughts.
Antigone. Know then that of our brothers Creon deigns
One with a tomb to grace, and cafts one forth
Unhonour'd. With all juft and folemn rites
Eteocles, they fay, beneath the earth
He places, honour'd by the dead below.
But his harsh edi&t is proclaim'd, that none
Entomb, that none bewail the wretched corfe
Of Polynices, doom'd by him to lie
Unwept, unburied, with his flesh to gorge

The ravening birds, whofe keen eye marks their prey.
This the good Creon hath, they fay, to thee
And me (for I mult name my felf) enjoin'd;
And hither comes his mandate to proclaim
To thofe who know it not; no trivial charge,
Nor to be flighted; for whoe'er performs
Aught of thefe offices, is doom'd to die.
Such is our ftate; which calls on thee to show
Thy high-born fpirit, or degenerate mind.
Imene. What, wretched fifter, what can I avail,
Oppofing, or obeying his command?

Antigone.

Antigone. Wilt thou affift me? Wilt thou share my toils?
Refolve.

Ifmene.

What deed of danger to attempt?

What thy intent?

Antigone.

Wilt thou with thine affift

My hand, and bear this wretched corse away?
Ifmene. Wou'dft thou interr him, though the state forbids?
Antigone. Mine and thy brother, e'en though thou refufe
Thy focial aid, I never will betray.

Ifmene. Wilt thou, too daring, Creon's mandate fcorn?
Antigone. He has no right to hold me from my friends.
Ifmene. Yet, O my fifter, to remembrance call

Our father's fate; how odious, how defam'd,
He perish'd, when confounded with the fenfe
Of his offences, in his rage he rent

With his own hands his bleeding orbs of fight.
His mother then and wife, to ills on ills
A double title, in the wreathed noofe
Died felf-destroy'd. Our brothers now, both flain
Each by the other's fpear, unhappy youths,
Have in one day one common fate atchiev'd.
We now remain fole reliques of our house;
Think then how we fhall perish by a fate
More wretched ftill, if we by force infringe
The fovereign pow'r and edict of our lords.
Confider too that we are women, weak
By nature, and unable to contend

With men; thus fubject to a ftronger pow'r
We must hear this, and what may grieve us more.
I then (of thofe beneath the earth rever'd
Imploring pardon, fince by force constrain'd)
Will yield obedience to our potent lords.
Attempts beyond our ftrength no prudence fhow.
Antigone. I would not urge thee; nor, were now thy mind
Prompt to the deed, confent that thou shou'dft act
With me: be fuch as is thy will to be.

I will interr him; and performing this
Death will be glorious to me; I fall lie
With my dear brother, to my brother dear,
Thefe pious rites difcharged; for to the dead
Longer a grace is pleafing than to those
Who live; fince there for ever I shall lie.
Do thou, if fuch thy pleasure, lightly deem
Of facred things, the honours of the gods.
Ifmene. I bold them high in honour; but to act

By force against the ftate were rash and wild.
Antigone. Make that thy fair pretence; but I will go,
And for my dearest brother raise a tomb.

Imene. Unhappy fifter, how I fear for thee!

Antigone. Fear not for me; be thy own life thy care.
Ifmene. Yet to none other thy intent difclofe;
Conceal it: of my filence be affur'd.

Antigone

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