[In the following review, contemporaneous with the publication of Zofloya, the reviewer argues satirically that the novel requires of its readers a suspension of disbelief.]

Zofloya; or, The Moor: A Romance of the Fifteenth Century. By Charlotte Dacre, better known as Rosa Matilda, Author of the Nun of St. Omers, Hours of Solitude, &c. 3vols. 12mo. 12s. Longman & Co. London, 1806.

After all it must be confessed that the devil is on many occasions a very ill used gentleman. Notwithstanding the liberal old saying, “give the devil his due,” many people act as if they thought that the devil had no right to expect justice in any form or mode. They have, perhaps, been led to think so from the selfish notion that Satan was a very convenient scape goat, and that they might safely lighten the burden of their sins by placing the greater part of them on his shoulders. The devil likewise has, no doubt, been a great sufferer from his never having appeared openly in a court of law either as plaintiff or defendant, a circumstance which seems to warrant the idea that he may be libelled with impunity. The fair Rosa Matilda must be of this opinion as she has laid a variety of crimes to the charge of the devil which, it is more than probable, never entered into his infernal brain, or into any other brain but her own. The reader, in order to be convinced of this, has only to attend to the nature of these charges and the evidence by which they are substantiated.

The scene is laid in Venice which, undoubtedly, the devil has often visited in the way of business, and witnessed transactions that astonished even him. Victoria de Loredani was the daughter of a noble Venetian, and was but very young, when her mother thought proper to elope with Count Ardolph, whom it appears she thought a more agreeable companion than her husband. The consequence was that Victoria's father was killed in an accidental encounter with Ardolph in the streets, the latter having plunged his stiletto in the bosom of the former in self defence. Upon this Laurina, like a dutiful mother, took her daughter Victoria to the home of her paramour. In a short time Victoria proved that the example of her mother had not been lost upon her, for she found means to become the mistress of a Count Berenza who was afterwards induced to marry her. Now this Berenza had a brother named Henriquez, whom after mature consideration Victoria thought preferable to her husband. But then she was married, and Henriquez was in love with another woman. The latter obstacle, however, she thought she could easily overcome, if she could only get rid of the former. It so happened that Henriquez had a Moor for his servant who having been missing for some time was thought to be dead, but who returned again to the great joy of all, but more particularly of Victoria, for she had dreamed that by his means she had attained to the summit of her wishes. Nor were her dreams without some meaning, for this Moor, according to our fair authoress, happened to be no other than Satan himself, who had come to the assistance of Victoria, and had the decorum to lodge himself in a black body, so as to be something in character. Now the first thing to be accomplished was the death of the husband, and for this purpose the devil very civilly furnished a slow poison, which Victoria administered till Berenza died. But her purpose was not yet answered. She found it not so easy to gain the love of Henriquez as she had imagined, and in this dilemma applied to her sable counsellor. He, ever ready to gratify her wishes, presented her with a drug which was to have the admirable effect of turning the love of Henriquez from his former flame to herself. The expedient succeeded for a short time, but when Henriquez recovered from the effects of the philtre, he stabbed himself with his own sword most tragically. The enraged Victoria upon this sought her rival and murdered her, and to avoid detection fled to the mountains with her close friend the devil. He conducted her to a den of thieves. There they remained till surprized by the troops of government. The devil, however, contrived to carry her away, and in some retired situation declared to her that he was no Moor, but Satan himself, after which he very rudely seized her by the throat and dashed her in pieces against a rock. This was the more uncivil because Victoria had fallen in love with his infernal majesty, who in his disguise of a Moor appeared to her a very fine fellow. During these transactions the devil had presented her with some roses, and one of the thorns, having accidentally pierced her finger, he with great eagerness applied his handkerchief to the wound in order to collect the blood. He then put the handkerchief in his bosom, which she thought a very gallant proceeding, while he regarded this as a sort of contract by which she should be his both “soul and body,” this it seems being his infernal manner of adjusting matters of this sort.

Now like a trusty jury, resolved to presume the very devil innocent of the particular crime or crimes of which he is here accused, till he is proved to be guilty, we must examine the evidence which the fair accuser adduces in order to substantiate her charges against the foul accused. The principal, and indeed the only direct evidence, is her own assertion; but we cannot take assertion without considering what were her means of information, and whether she might not by probability or possibility have been deceived. One is naturally led to ask how the lady came to be so well acquainted with the devil as to be thus let into the secret of his transactions. But be that as it may, we have no doubt she herself, supposing her testimony false, has been imposed upon. Now it so happens, that in such cases, ladies of her description may be, and very often are, imposed upon. The reason is that unfortunately they have the seeds of nonsense, bad taste, and ridiculous fancies, early sown in their minds. These having come to maturity, render the brain putrid and corrupt, and the consequence is the formation of millions of the strangest maggots that one can conceive. The truth of this is now so notorious that it would be idle to enter upon any proof of it, however much it may appear to favour the exploded doctrine of equivocal generation. Now the effects of this disease of maggots in the brain, are somewhat similar to those of a brain fever. The patient raves incessantly, sees things that never were seen before, and says things that were never before said. In short he creates a world of his own, which he fills with every thing but what is rational and human. Some of those afflicted with this malady shew a particular partiality for the agency of the devil, whom they cause to think, speak, and act, in a manner that astonishes the very devil himself. Indeed even Satan must have pitied them if the devil were capable of pity. This, perhaps, may explain the reason why the devil bears so patiently the ill-usage which he meets with from these unfortunate creatures, for he must be worse than a devil that could derive any pleasure from tormenting poor people in their situation. That our fair authoress is afflicted with the dismal malady of maggots in the brain is, alas, but too apparent, from the whole of her production, and therefore there seem to be good grounds for the conclusion that the devil has been here libelled, as he has been on many other occasions; that he is guiltless of the crimes laid to his charge, and that the whole originated in the above-mentioned disease. Besides this, it is to be considered that it is quite out of the devil's ordinary course of proceeding to become a retailer of arsenic or any other poison. He is too cunning to do any thing more than is necessary. If he can tempt sinners to deal in poison he knows that this is sufficient, and that the poison is to be had at any apothecary's shop; though he is certainly often charged with the temptation when he has had no hand in it. In addition to this, it seems pretty clear that the devil has too much business on his hands to be able to attend closely for a long time in propria persona on one person. This would be supposing the devil to be a fool as well as a knave, which is certainly doing him injustice, for though he is undoubtedly a knave, yet he generally leaves the folly with maggotty-brained ladies. The influence of this fatal malady therefore appears in all its force when we find that the devil is represented as “swimming in the sight of Victoria, as haunting her dreams; sometimes wandering with her over beds of flowers, sometimes over craggy rocks, sometimes in fields of the brightest verdure, sometimes over burning sands, tottering on the ridge of some huge precipice while the angry waters waved in the abyss below; as spreading a grey silvery mist around her chamber when she laid down and closed her eyes; as holding the thin and spectral form of the orphan Lilla, which seemed arrayed in transparent shade.” Instead of crediting this extravagant account of the devil's occupations, one is apt to think of Humphrey Gubbins's cousin Bridget in her romantic fits, and to say with him, “poor creature, how long have you been in this situation.”

But the influence of the disease appears not only in libelling the devil, but also in murdering the English language, for how, alas, could the afflicted patient be expected to talk or write rationally? When we hear of “enslaved energies,” of mirth being “like the brilliant glare of the terrible volcano pregnant even in its beauty with destruction,” of “dreams of mysterious tendency flitting in the disordered eye of sleep,” of “images presenting themselves to mental vision,” of “boldly organized minds,” of persons “capable of deeds which in the conception dilated and seduced the soul, but which they could neither comprehend nor identify;” that is, of deeds which could be conceived but not comprehended; when we hear of these and many other things of the same sort, we must wonder at the power of the maggotty disease in applying extravagant language to common things, and in overwhelming all meaning in a multitude of words. Sometimes, however, we may form a pretty probable conjecture respecting the sense of certain expressions; for instance, when it is said that Victoria “laid down,” we may suppose that our fair authoress meant to say that she lay down, or that she laid herself down. It is not often however, that in cases of this kind we are so fortunate. But this malady of maggots in the brain is rendered still more dreadful by its being infectious. The ravings of persons under its influence, whenever they are heard or read, have a sensible effect upon brains of a weak construction, which themselves either putrify and breed maggots, or suffer a derangement of some kind. It might be a charitable thing to have an hospital for the reception of these unfortunate people while under the influence of the disease, where they might be confined in such a manner as not to infect others; the incurables being of course kept separate from the rest. Now it evidently appears that our fair authoress must have been strongly attacked by the disease when she wrote these volumes and treated the devil, English, and common sense so scurvily. But whether she is among the incurables or not time must shew.