Vittoria, however, gives orders for his release, and he rushes forth to the field, where he turns the tide of battle, and earns that glorious death he sighed for. The failure of the play at Covent Garden theatre was attributed, amongst the friends of the authoress, to the indifferent acting of the lady who performed the part of Constance. In justice to the actress, we must confess she had a most difficult part to deal with. There is not a single speech set down for Constance, which, we think, the most skilful recitation could make effective. The failure of Mrs Hemans, in this part of the drama, is not very easily accounted for. Constance is a gentle, affectionate spirit, in love with the younger Procida, and the unfortunate cause of the suspicion that falls upon him of being a traitor. It is a character which, in her lyrical effusions, she would have beautifully portrayed. But we suppose that the exclusion from her favourite haunts of nature--the inability of investing the grief of her heroine in her accustomed associations of woods, and fields, and flowers--the confinement of her imagination to what would be suitable to the _boards_ of a theatre--embarrassed and cramped her powers. Certain it is, she seems quite at a loss here to express a strain of feeling which, on other occasions, she has poured out with singular fluency and force. Constance has no other manner of exhibiting her distress but swooning or dreaming, or thinking she must have been dreaming, and recovering herself to the remembrance of what no mortal so situated could ever have forgotten--the most common, and, to our taste, one of the most unfortunate expedients that dramatists and novelists have recourse to. We are loath to quote any thing half so uninteresting as instances of this practice; we shall content ourselves with giving, in a note below, two brief passages to exemplify what we mean.[1] 1: Vittoria has told Constance that Raimond is to die; she then leaves her with the priest Anselmo-- _Con._ (_Endeavouring to rouse herself._) Did she not say That some one was to die? Have I not heard Some fearful tale? Who said that there should rest Blood on my soul? What blood? I never bore Hatred, kind father! unto aught that breathes; Raimond doth know it well. _Raimond! High Heaven!_ _It bursts upon me now!_ and he must die! For my sake--e'en for mine! Is it very probable that a person in the situation of Constance should have to go this round of associations to recall what had just been told her, that her lover was to be tried for his life? Constance, in order to save him by surrendering herself, rushes to the tribunal, where this mock trial is taking place. Their judges sentence both. Constance swoons in the arms of Raimond, and then ensues this piece of _unaffecting_ bewilderment.