same source, was the convenient sentence of an adroit but
reckless ignorance. The merits of St. Real are undoubtedly great;
but Otway's indebtedness to him is exceedingly slight; and it is
remarkable to see how ingeniously, from a few meagre historical
details, the great dramatist has constructed one of the noblest
imaginative works of which literature can boast. The _names_ of
nearly all the _dramatis personae_ with the exception of _Belvidera_,
are taken from St. Real; but their _characters_ are Otway's, and
his plot is almost wholly original. The true _Pierre_ was a Norman
corsair, who had accumulated a fortune by plundering ships
in the Mediterranean. He was eventually strangled on board
his own ship by order of the Venetian Senate. _Jaffier_ was of
Provence, and appears to have engaged in the plot against the
state from his friendship for Pierre, and the prospect of gain.
History says nothing of his wrongs, or his love for the daughter
of _Priuli_; and he was shaken in his faith to the conspiracy, not
by the tears of a woman, but partly by nis detestation of the
sanguinary speech of _Renault_ (in which Otway follows the
history), and partly from being struck with compunction during
the spectacle of the Doge's wedding the Adriatic, when his
imagination contrasted the public rejoicings with the desolation
which was to follow. After disclosing the plot, and experiencing
the perfidy of the Senate, who had promised him the lives of his
friends, he was made captive while bearing arms against Venice,
and drowned the day after his arrival in the city. _Renault_,
according to St. Real, was an old French gentleman, who had fled
to Venice for some unknown cause, and there became acquainted
with the _Marquis de Bedmar_. Though poor, he esteemed virtue
more than riches, and glory more than virtue. He had abilities,
courage, a contempt for life, and a passion for distinction.
The affront towards Belvidera, of which Otway makes him
guilty, was a pure invention of the author, unsupported by any
trait which history ascribes to Renault.

Few plays owe so much to the pruning-knife for their success
as this. In its unexpurgated state, "Venice Preserved" leaves
an impression far less favorable to the genius, as well as the
moral sense of the author, than in its present abridged and
rectified shape. In the language of Campbell, "never were beauties
and faults more easily separated than those of this tragedy. The
latter, in its puri