ADVERTISEMENT.

THIS production is founded partly on the story of a Novel called "The Three Brothers,» published many years ago, from which M. G. Lewis's «Wood Demon"> was also taken and partly on the « Faust" of the great Goëthe. The present publication contains the two first parts only, and the opening chorus of the third. The rest may perhaps appear hereafter.

Spirits, Soldiers, Citizens of Rome, Priests, Peasants, etc.

THE

DEFORMED TRANSFORMED.

PART I.

SCENE I.-A FOREST.

Enter ARNOLD and his mother BERTHA.

BERTHA.

OUT, hunchback!

ARNOLD.

I was born so, mother!

BERTHA.

Out!

Thou incubus! Thou night-mare! Of seven sons

The sole abortion!

ARNOLD.

Would that I had been so,

And never seen the light!

BERTHA.

I would so too!

But as thou hast—hence, hence--and do thy best.

That back of thine may bear its burthen; 't is
More high, if not so broad as that of others.

ARNOLD.

It bears its burthen; but, my heart! Will it
Sustain that which you lay upon it, mother?
I love, or, at the least, I loved

you: nothing Save you, in nature, can love aught like me.

You nursed me-do not kill me!

BERTHA.

Yes-I nursed thee,

Because thou wert my first-born, and I knew not
If there would be another unlike thee,

That monstrous sport of nature. But get hence,
And gather wood!

ARNOLD.

I will: but when I bring it,

Speak to me kindly. Though my brothers are
So beautiful and lusty, and as free

As the free chase they follow, do not spurn me:
Our milk has been the same.

BERTHA.

As is the hedge-hog's,

Which sucks at midnight from the wholesome dam
Of the young bull, until the milkmaid finds
The nipple next day sore and udder dry.
Call not thy brothers brethren! Call me not
Mother; for if I brought thee forth, it was
As foolish hens at times hatch vipers, by
Sitting upon strange eggs. Out, urchin, out!

ARNOLD (Solus.)

(Exit BERTHA.

Oh mother!--She is gone, and I must do

Her bidding;-wearily but willingly

I would fulfil it, could I only hope

A kind word in return.

What shall I do?

(ARNOLD begins to cut wood in doing this he wounds one of his hands.

My labour for the day is over now.

Accursed be this blood that flows so fast;

For double curses will be my meed now

At home. What home? I have no home, no kin,
No kind-not made like other creatures, or

To share their sports or pleasures. Must I bleed too
Like them? Oh that each drop which falls to earth
Would rise a snake to sting them, as they have stung me!
Or that the devil, to whom they liken me,
Would aid his likeness! If I must partake
His form, why not his power! Is it because
I have not his will too? For one kind word,
From her who bore me, would still reconcile me
Even to this hateful aspect. Let me wash
The wound.

(ARNOLD goes to a spring, and stoops to wash his hand he starts back.

They are right; and nature's mirror shows me
What she hath made me. I will not look on it
Again, and scarce dare think on't. Hideous wretch
That I am! The very waters mock me with
My horrid shadow-like a demon placed
Deep in the fountain to scare back the cattle
From drinking therein.

And shall I live on,

A burthen to the earth, myself, and shame
Unto what brought me into life? Thou blood,
Which flow'st so freely from a scratch, let me

(He pauses.