The three best of his new tragedies, _Gismonda da Mendrisio_, _Leoniero da Dertona_, and the _Herodiad_, have been published together in one volume. The scene of the first is laid at the period of the destruction of Milan by the forces of Frederick I, assisted by many of the Lombards, to whom that city had become odious. Aribert, son to the Count of Mendrisio, had been betrothed to Gismonda of Lodi, but afterwards becoming enamored of Gabriella, a lady of Milan, espoused her, and devoted himself to the cause of her countrymen. Having aided to destroy Lodi, he engages in the defence of Milan against the Emperor and his father’s house; while his younger brother, who has married Gismonda, leads an army against the city. The piece opens with the exultation of the victors over the conquest of Milan; but the rejoicing of the Count is embittered by the tidings that his eldest son has perished. Gismonda, whose desire of vengeance is satisfied at the account of his death, with difficulty suppresses her tears, and avows in a soliloquy her unextinguished love for the man who had deserted her, and wasted her country. Aribert, however, had escaped the slaughter of Milan, and appears in the second act with his child and Gabriella in man’s attire, before his father’s gate, to implore forgiveness and protection for his family. His wife meets Gismonda, and emboldened by the expression of sadness in her countenance, addresses her, without revealing her real sex, and begs her mediation, but in vain. The Count unexpectedly comes forward and listens to her; encouraged by his parental tenderness, Aribert {776} throws himself at his feet, and is pardoned and restored to his former privileges. He prays Gismonda to forget what is past, and be a sister to him, to which she replied with concealed bitterness. “Forgetful of the past? To me no harm Or outrage hast thou done, nor in thy power Is it to harm me. I could still be happy Whatever madness and whatever guilt Drove thee to fight beneath Milan’s proud standards, And to espouse a daughter of Milan. I hold me, Aribert, not wronged by thee, But rather bless the day that broke a bond Imposed in folly, and bestowed my hand Upon a loyal cavalier. In thee I hate my house’s foe, Cæsar’s and God’s.”