The Mysterious Marriage by Harriet Lee

Drawn from Act III, sc. 3, the excerpt unveils a variety of Gothic features which follow one another as the text works up to a climax. The stage directions at the beginning of the scene create the gloomy night atmosphere, and anticipate the frightening series of events that are about to happen. Inside, the dark arched gallery is lit by a lamp, whereas outside we hear claps of thunder and flashes of lightning. Albert is talking to the servant Rodolphus, but the latter soon falls asleep, so Albert’s speech becomes a monologue. In the first part (ll. 1-9) Albert’s fear is plain: he asks “Are the heavens angry, that they chide us thus?”, then “An ’ twere their will to visit sinful heads, / I well might fear now!”. Referring to himself, he observes: “And feeble-minded man/ Betrays himself.” He has already poisoned Constantia, so his crime is a heavy burden to him, but he tries to wipe it away (ll. 10-18). Indeed he asserts: “Present, past and future, / Wild, misshaped hopes, and horrible rememb’rings, / Now rise a hideous and half viewless chaos” and then, immediately exclaims: “Mem’ry, stop there! / Not a jot further!”.
He focuses on his future, which he imagines will be gloriously successful, as he says: “Thou bright sun, / Thou, dazzling future, rise with goldlike splendour, / And gild the vast horizon of ambition.” This image of sunlight and gold is deeply in contrast with the opening one, exclusively characterized by darkness and a violent storm. He ponders on his plans to marry the Countess, and adds: “Say it be clouded with a woman’s will!” (l. 19).
His words about the Countess mirror the concept of woman typical of late eighteenth-century culture (ll. 20-23). She is seen as superficial and easily corruptible: “Yet she is a woman – therefore to be lured; / A young one – therefore to be bribed by gauds”. The word “therefore”, repeated twice, emphatically (and naturally) connects femininity with a state of subjection. Furthermore, Albert observes: “And I will tempt her with such golden glories/ As her weak sex would grasp at”. As, in Albert’s views, women are the weak sex, they are to be exploited for his own ambitions. Just before entering the Countess’s bedroom, once more the villain states his superiority: “At worst, / A lover’s passion, and a husband’s right, / Shall justify the intrusion!” (ll. 26-27).
Suddenly, the ghost of Constantia appears, wrapped in “the lightest white drapery” (l. 28), and physically prevents Albert from entering the room. She does not speak at all. She merely “gazes intently, and motions him from her” (l. 33). The villain is now torn between two female figures, one living – the Countess – and one dead – Constantia’s ghost. The latter can now assert her power on him, whereas, in her lifetime, he had decided everything for her and their relationship. Albert is visibly astonished and confused, as is conveyed by his analysis of his own perceptions. At first he believes the ghost to be an invention of his own bewildered senses, but then he adds: “Yet saw it plain – / Most manifest to view” (ll. 37-38). This character is so terrified that he wakes Rodolphus (ll. 40-41). The servant promptly answers Albert’s exclamations: “Sound sleep is the patrimony of honest poverty […] ’ twas all my father had to bequeath me” (ll. 42-44). His calmness is in evident contrast with Albert’s anxiety and fear, and his trustfulness clashes with the villain’s treacherous deeds. The humility of poor people is a rare but relevant Gothic theme (in another scene of the play, the peasants express their grief for Constantia’s death and their love for her by singing sweet songs celebrating her generosity and loyalty).
This passage presents a variety of important Gothic themes and motifs: the gloomy atmosphere, the medieval background, the villain’s fear and greedy wishes, the subjection of women, the ghost, and the villagers’ simple life. It is also one of the most ironic passages in the play, and it must be remembered that irony was one of the most effective weapons in the hands of Romantic-period women writers. In this excerpt, irony is visible and active as Albert seeks to obtain social promotion and wealth by marrying the heiress of Roselva, but in actual fact he has murdered the rightful heiress, Constantia, in order to marry the Countess, who has no power over Roselva. The fact that the Countess is assaulted by the man her father wants her to marry is also very ironic. And, in the end, irony re-emerges when Albert is stabbed by Osmond, a servant, and the duel between the villain and the heroic Sigismond is thus avoided. Even if Constantia is not the actual heroine of the play – the character of the Countess is more accurately described as the female protagonist – she is the central figure, as everything that happens is connected with her: the Count deprives her of her rights and gains power over Roselva; Albert poisons her after having disappointed her and betrayed her love for him; and Sigismond can recover his true identity thanks to her amulet. The order restored at the end of the play is comforting; yet, during the play itself, reality is often chaotic, altered and distorted. There is therefore a stark contrast between the harmonious conclusion and the situations of tension, conflict, violence and misrule depicted in the main body of the text. It may be suggested that the aim of this contrast is to puzzle the viewers/readers, and undermine their trust in orderly and organized social structures by inviting them to imagine horrible and unnatural actions in a context where authority is subverted

THEA : Teaching&Study Aids - Harriet Lee *The Mysterious Marriage; or The Heirship of Roselva, A Play in Three Acts* Act III - Scene III. Reading -
	by Claudia Bonetti (april 2004)
Source	Author
Sisters of Gore: Gothic Melodramas by British Women, ed. John Franceschina (New York and London: Routledge, 2000), pp. 107-8. This excerpt is taken from the Gothic tragedy The Mysterious Marriage; or, the Heirship of Roselva written by Harriet Lee in 1795. It was not published until 1798, and was never performed, as all the London theatres refused to stage it. It is one of the most important plays of this period, most of all because it is the first tragedy featuring a ghost, thus anticipating both James Boaden’s and Matthew Lewis’ famous ghost plays. Indeed, Boaden’s Fontainville Forest was staged in 1796, whereas Lewis’ Castle Spectre was premiered in 1797.	Harriet Lee was born in 1757 in London and died in 1851. She devoted herself both to fiction and to drama. She wrote an epistolary novel, The Errors of Innocence, published in 1786, then her masterpiece The Canterbury Tales, written in collaboration with her sister Sophia Lee, another important late eighteenth-century dramatist, appeared between 1797 and 1805. As far as her dramatic production is concerned, she wrote one comedy and two tragedies. The comedy The New Peerage; or, Our Eyes May Deceive Us was staged at Drury Lane in 1787. Even if it was described as “a poor play”, it enjoyed nine performances. The tragedies were not so successful. The Mysterious Marriage was never performed, and The Three Strangers, based on “Kruitzner, The German’s Tale” (1801), on one of the Canterbury Tales, was played just once in Covent Garden in 1825.
Clicca sull'icona della copertina per accedere alla scheda informativa sul testo	Plot The Mysterious Marriage presents a rather complicated plot. First of all, we have several characters who are as important as the three main ones – the hero, the heroine and the villain – and the action is sometimes difficult to follow. The marriage indicated in the title is the secret union between Albert, who is the villain, and Constantia, the Countess’s friend. Constantia is the rightful heiress to Roselva, but nobody knows this apart from the Count, who saved her during a siege immediately after she was born. The girl’s parents were killed, so the Count usurped the throne and raised his own daughter, the Countess, as the heiress of Roselva. The Countess is secretly in love with Sigismond, an honest and brave prisoner. Albert, the proud and ambitious courtier, aims at marrying the Countess in order to gain the power and wealth attached to her title. The Count approves of this marriage, especially because it can fend off accusations against his own secret past. However, Albert’s marriage with Constantia is an obstacle to his ambitious plan, so he decides to poison her, and she dies shortly. The villain’s greed then leads him to try and remove the Countess from the castle. On his first attempt, Constantia’s ghost prevents Albert from entering the Countess’s room, while on the second he is stabbed by Rodolphus, one of the Count’s most reliable servants, and dies. The Countess discovers her father’s secret past, and also finds out that Sigismond is Constantia’s twin, as his amulet perfectly matches the one Constantia gave her before dying. Therefore, Sigismond is revealed to be the rightful heir to Roselva, and he can now marry the Countess, whereas the Count is mortally wounded in a battle.
Excerpt	Analysis
The scene changes to the arched gallery as before, lighted by a lamp from the roof. Albert enters through his chamber-door, speaking to Rodolphus, whose pallet is visible from the lights within. –Thunder at intervals, with vivid flashes of lightning seen through the casements. Albert. See that the tapers burn - and then to bed. Are the heavens angry, that they chide us thus? An 'twere their will to visit sinful heads, I well might fear now! - Yet the forked flash Past innocent - and feeble-minded man Betrays himself. - It is the hour of rest! And all the mingled sounds that swell'd of late Thro' the low vaults and hollows of the castle, Are sunk to stillness. Thought's fantastic brood Alone is waking: - present - past, and future, Wild, misshaped hopes, and horrible rememb'rings, Now rise a hideous and half viewless chaos To fancy's vision - till the stout heart freeze At its own retrospect. - Mem'ry, stop there! Not a jot further! - Rather, thou bright sun, Thou dazzling future, rise with goldlike splendour, And gild the vast horizon of ambition. Say it be clouded by a woman's will! Yet is she woman - therefore to be lured; A young one - therefore to be bribed by gauds: And I will tempt her with such golden glories As her weak sex would grasp at, tho' perdition Gaped in the gulf between! - This is her chamber! Perchance she sleeps unguarded - at the worst, A lover's passion, and a husband's right, Shall justify the' intrusion! - Who dare bar me? (The Ghost of Constantia, shrouded in the lightest white drapery, appears before the door, passing the pallet of Rodolphus, who sleeps sweetly.) Ha! Have my senses conjured up a phantom? Speak, vision, if thou canst! (Advancing.) (She gazes intently, and motions him from her.) Oh horrible! (He leans against a pillar.) (Vivid lightning - the Ghost glides into the chamber of the Countess.) Albert (after a pause). I am a coward - and my fears have shaped The thing that is not. - Yet saw it plain - Most manifest to view. Nor, tho' the heav'ns had shower'd down sheets of fire, Could it have so appall'd me. - What, Rodolphus! Rodolphus, I say - So, Sir, you sleep sound! Rodolphus(starting up). Aye, truly, my Lord - Sound sleep is the patrimony of honest poverty. My family had the trick on't, and 'twas all my father had to bequeath me. (Thunder.)	Drawn from Act III, sc. 3, the excerpt unveils a variety of Gothic features which follow one another as the text works up to a climax. The stage directions at the beginning of the scene create the gloomy night atmosphere, and anticipate the frightening series of events that are about to happen. Inside, the dark arched gallery is lit by a lamp, whereas outside we hear claps of thunder and flashes of lightning. Albert is talking to the servant Rodolphus, but the latter soon falls asleep, so Albert’s speech becomes a monologue. In the first part (ll. 1-9) Albert’s fear is plain: he asks “Are the heavens angry, that they chide us thus?”, then “An ’ twere their will to visit sinful heads, / I well might fear now!”. Referring to himself, he observes: “And feeble-minded man/ Betrays himself.” He has already poisoned Constantia, so his crime is a heavy burden to him, but he tries to wipe it away (ll. 10-18). Indeed he asserts: “Present, past and future, / Wild, misshaped hopes, and horrible rememb’rings, / Now rise a hideous and half viewless chaos” and then, immediately exclaims: “Mem’ry, stop there! / Not a jot further!”. He focuses on his future, which he imagines will be gloriously successful, as he says: “Thou bright sun, / Thou, dazzling future, rise with goldlike splendour, / And gild the vast horizon of ambition.” This image of sunlight and gold is deeply in contrast with the opening one, exclusively characterized by darkness and a violent storm. He ponders on his plans to marry the Countess, and adds: “Say it be clouded with a woman’s will!” (l. 19). His words about the Countess mirror the concept of woman typical of late eighteenth-century culture (ll. 20-23). She is seen as superficial and easily corruptible: “Yet she is a woman – therefore to be lured; / A young one – therefore to be bribed by gauds”. The word “therefore”, repeated twice, emphatically (and naturally) connects femininity with a state of subjection. Furthermore, Albert observes: “And I will tempt her with such golden glories/ As her weak sex would grasp at”. As, in Albert’s views, women are the weak sex, they are to be exploited for his own ambitions. Just before entering the Countess’s bedroom, once more the villain states his superiority: “At worst, / A lover’s passion, and a husband’s right, / Shall justify the intrusion!” (ll. 26-27). Suddenly, the ghost of Constantia appears, wrapped in “the lightest white drapery” (l. 28), and physically prevents Albert from entering the room. She does not speak at all. She merely “gazes intently, and motions him from her” (l. 33). The villain is now torn between two female figures, one living – the Countess – and one dead – Constantia’s ghost. The latter can now assert her power on him, whereas, in her lifetime, he had decided everything for her and their relationship. Albert is visibly astonished and confused, as is conveyed by his analysis of his own perceptions. At first he believes the ghost to be an invention of his own bewildered senses, but then he adds: “Yet saw it plain – / Most manifest to view” (ll. 37-38). This character is so terrified that he wakes Rodolphus (ll. 40-41). The servant promptly answers Albert’s exclamations: “Sound sleep is the patrimony of honest poverty […] ’ twas all my father had to bequeath me” (ll. 42-44). His calmness is in evident contrast with Albert’s anxiety and fear, and his trustfulness clashes with the villain’s treacherous deeds. The humility of poor people is a rare but relevant Gothic theme (in another scene of the play, the peasants express their grief for Constantia’s death and their love for her by singing sweet songs celebrating her generosity and loyalty). This passage presents a variety of important Gothic themes and motifs: the gloomy atmosphere, the medieval background, the villain’s fear and greedy wishes, the subjection of women, the ghost, and the villagers’ simple life. It is also one of the most ironic passages in the play, and it must be remembered that irony was one of the most effective weapons in the hands of Romantic-period women writers. In this excerpt, irony is visible and active as Albert seeks to obtain social promotion and wealth by marrying the heiress of Roselva, but in actual fact he has murdered the rightful heiress, Constantia, in order to marry the Countess, who has no power over Roselva. The fact that the Countess is assaulted by the man her father wants her to marry is also very ironic. And, in the end, irony re-emerges when Albert is stabbed by Osmond, a servant, and the duel between the villain and the heroic Sigismond is thus avoided. Even if Constantia is not the actual heroine of the play – the character of the Countess is more accurately described as the female protagonist – she is the central figure, as everything that happens is connected with her: the Count deprives her of her rights and gains power over Roselva; Albert poisons her after having disappointed her and betrayed her love for him; and Sigismond can recover his true identity thanks to her amulet. The order restored at the end of the play is comforting; yet, during the play itself, reality is often chaotic, altered and distorted. There is therefore a stark contrast between the harmonious conclusion and the situations of tension, conflict, violence and misrule depicted in the main body of the text. It may be suggested that the aim of this contrast is to puzzle the viewers/readers, and undermine their trust in orderly and organized social structures by inviting them to imagine horrible and unnatural actions in a context where authority is subverted

Harriet Lee

The Mysterious Marriage; or The Heirship of Roselva, A Play in Three Acts