PREFACE.

A MANUSCRIPT was communicated to me during my travels in Italy, which was copied from the archives of the Cenci Palace at Rome, and contains a detailed account of the horrors which ended in the extinction of one of the noblest and richest families of that city, during the Pontificate of Clement VIII. in the year 1509. The story is, that an old man, having spent his life in debauchery and wickedness, conceived at length an implacable hatred towards his children; which showed itself towards one daughter under the form of an incestuous passion, aggravated by every circumstance of cruelty and violence. This daughter, after long and vain attempts to escape from what she considered a perpetual contamination both of body and mind, at length plotted with her motherin-law and brother to murder their common tyrant. The young maiden, who was urged to this tremendous deed by an impulse which overpowered its horror, was evidently a most gentle and amiable being, a creature formed to adorn and be admired, and thus violently thwarted from her nature by the necessity of circumstance and opinion. The deed was quickly

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discovered, and, in spite of the most earnest prayers made to the Pope by the highest persons in Rome, the criminals were put to death. The old man had, during his life, repeatedly bought his pardon from the Pope for capital crimes of the most enormous and unspeakable kind, at the price of a hundred thousand crowns; the death therefore of his victims can scarcely be accounted for by the love of justice. The Pope, among other motives for severity, probably felt that whoever killed the Count Cenci deprived his treasury of a certain and copious source of reve. nue.* Such a story, if told so as to present to the reader all the feelings of those who once acted it, their hopes and fears, their confidences and misgivings, their various interests, passions, and opinions, acting upon and with each other, yet all conspiring to one tremendous end, would be as a light to make apparent some of the most dark and secret caverns of human heart.

* my arrival at Rome, I found that the story of enci was a subject not to be mentioned in Ita*ociety without awakening a deep and breathless est; and that the feelings of the company never

The Papal Government formerly took the most extraMary precautions against the publicity of facts which offer ragical a demonstration of its own wickedness and weakso that the communication of the MS, had become, unJately, a matter of some difficulty.

failed to incline to a romantic pity for the wrongs, and a passionate exculpation of the horrible deed to which they urged her, who has been mingled two centuries with the common dust. All ranks of people knew the outlines of this history, and participated in the overwhelming interest which it seems to have the magic of exciting in the human heart. I had a copy of Guido's picture of Beatrice, which is preserved in the Colonna Palace, and my servant instantly recognised it as the portrait of La Cenci.

This national and universal interest which the story produces and has produced for two centuries, and among all ranks of people in a great city, where the imagination is kept for ever active and awake, first suggested to me the conception of its fitness for a dramatic purpose. In fact it is a tragedy which has already received, from its capacity of awakening and sustaining the sympathy of men, approbation and success. Nothing remained, as I imagined, but to clothe it to the apprehensions of my countrymen in such language and action as would bring it home to their hearts. The deepest and the sublimest tragic compositions, King Lear and the two plays in which the tale of Edipus is told, were stories which already existed in tradition, as matters of popular belief and interest, before Shakspeare and Sophocles made them familiar to the sympathy of all succeeding generations of man

discovered, and, in spite of the most earnest prayers made to the Pope by the highest persons in Rome, the criminals were put to death. The old man had, during his life, repeatedly bought his pardon from the Pope for capital crimes of the most enormous and

hundred thouunspeakable kind, at the price of a sand crowns; the death therefore of his victims can scarcely be accounted for by the love of justice. The Pope, among other motives for severity, probably I felt that whoever killed the Count Cenci deprived his treasury of a certain and copious source of reve. nue.* Such a story, if told so as to present to the reader all the feelings of those who once acted it,

their hopes and fears, their confidences

and misgiv.

ings, their various interests, passions, and opinions, acting upon and with each other, yet all conspiring light to make

to one tremendous end, would be as a

apparent some of the most dark and secret caverns of

the human heart.

On my arrival at Rome, I found that the story of the Cenci was a subject not to be mentioned in Italian society without awakening a deep and interest; and that the feelings of the company never

breathless

The Papal Government formerly took the most extraordinary precautions against the publicity of facts which offer

so tragical a demonstration of its own

un

wickedness and weakness; so that the communication of the MS, had become,

til very lately, a matter of some difficulty.

failed to incline to a romante pm for fur wring: and a passionate exculpation of for worrine art which they urged her, who has been mingit te turies with the common dust. At ranks of poODE knew the outlines of this history, aut partia the overwhelming interest which it seems I saw he magic of exciting in the bumat iar tata sup® of Guido's picture of Beatrist. w & PROSTHETI the Colonna Palace, and my servair meatfr, sousnised it as the portrait of Le Cent

ain

This national and universa meres wi fi Bur produces and has produced for a set among all ranks of people in a great ty imagination is kept for ever acte antara suggested to me the conception of in fue is i dramatic purpose. In fact it is a Eager wish sa already received, from ne capacity of awasetur birt sustaining the sympatry of men approccio aut bu cess. Nothing remained, a 1 magnust viifatius it to the apprehensions of my OUELTYIDDI AT

language and action as of big I me tuta hearts. The deepest and the suolives nage comp sitions, King Lear and for two pay a sua tur ste of Edipus is told, were sung wird antas åbe in tradition, as matters of popular beve! nur aus II" before Shakspeare and Supuoti tale titill-sm" to the sympathy of all succeeding scurtelave e mal.