BRITISH STAGE. We acted a play, written by one of the actors, and I admired how they should come to be poets, for I thought it belonged only to very learned and ingenious men, and not to persons so extremely ignorant. But it is now come to such a pass, that every body writes plays, and every actor makes drolls and farces; though formerly, I remember, no plays would go down but what were written by the greatest wits. Quevedo's Life of Paul, the Spanish Burber. MR. EDITOR, THE THEATRES. Ат length the theatrical hemisphere is clear. The managers have literally given up every point that seemed to be a popular objection; for though the insignia of the oppositionists, were the letters O. P. (meaning Old Prices), I really believe, that except the first two or three nights after the opening of the theatre, the new prices were but a secondary consideration with the public. It was the manner, Mr. Editor, in which the managers endeavoured to carry that point. It was indignation at the thought of being dragged like the most common felon, from a public place of amusement, merely from shewing their disapprobation of any circumstance or action of those, conducting the public places of amusement of a free nation: a liberty that has been enjoyed from the time such performances were first known; and because their rights as Britons and as men, were endeavoured to be wrested from them by managerial influence and by magisterial oppression and tyranny. This, sir, was the cause of a ferment so outrageous. It was this caused the nightly disturbance of a city, so famed for liberality and freedom as the city of London, for nearly three months, and not the new prices, private boxes, or Madame Catalani. Now, however, the public voice is by the managers acknow ledged to be their law, and peace being restored, the town have again a theatre, in which they may enjoy their favourite amusement. The Drury-lane company were certainly performing at the Lyceum, but that house altogether was very incommodious, and of course the dramatic performances there, could not be seen in such perfection as at a house built expressly for the purpose. And indeed the stage management, as it respects dresses and decorations, is there very badly conducted. Mr. Arnold, the manager, does not exert himself to bring forward sufficient novelty. They perform dramas night after night which, though perhaps, good plays in themselves, are so well known, and so often repeated, that they become insipid; but the most material point, is the very slovenly and careless manner, in which the performers in general walk through their characters this I suspect arises in consequence of the late disturbances at Covent-Garden theatre; from this circumstance, the Lyceum has almost every night been overflowing. But certainly such conduct is highly reprehensible, both in manager and performers. It is as much as to intimate, : we know your dislike to the noise and tumult of the other house; we are sure, while that noise lasts, of a full house, and why should we exert ourselves more than we please?" This is the only reason that I can find for the very careless man ner in which the plays there have been lately represented. But now, Mr. Editor, there must be some amendment both in the management and performance, or they will soon find their receipts will scarcely defray the expences. Your Mirror, being the only periodical work that de votes itself almost exclusively, to a subject of such importance, as theatrical performances, will, I hope, be my excuse, for addressing this letter to you. Dec. 18, 1809. I am, Mr. Editor, Your constant reader and admirer, ANECDOTE OF M. LARIVE, FROM THE ITALIAN OF DR. F. PANANTI. THE voice is the echo of the thoughts and sentiments. Its sound occasionally makes a deeper impression on the memory, than the lineaments of the face. The celebrated actor, La. RIVE, went, some time after playing the part of Orosman, to buy a steel chain. Enquiring for one, the woman in the shop started, and fixing her eyes upon him, remained in a state of immoveable astonishment, without making any answer. LARIVE repeated his question more earnestly. No reply. Im patient, and nearly in a passion, he exclaimed-"What the deuce is there wonderful in asking for a watch chain ?" "I beg your pardon, sir," replied the woman, "but you really have such an extraordinary voice-tell me, sir, pray tell me who you are, and all I have is at your service." "My name," said he, "is LARIVE, and I am a tragedian." The woman had scarcely heard the name, when she caught Larive's head between her hands, crying out, "Ah, malheureux! c'est vous qui avez assassiné Zaïre !" LARIVE not knowing whether to be angry or pleased, got into his carriage, and for some distance he could see her with extended arms, exclaiming "Ah! mon dieu, mon dieu! qui l'auroit cru ?” Another time, the same LARIVE passed the night at an inferior sort of inn. In a neighbouring room was a capuchin, who chattered so much, that LARIVE could not sleep a wink. Getting up, he crept gently to the door, and putting bis mouth to a hole, pronounced with all his force, these verses from Mahomet : Allez, vil idolâtre, et pour ne toujours l'être All was hushed. In the morning the host asked LARIVE whe "No," said he, "You seem very sorrowful," said LARIVE," what has happened to you?" "Oh sir,” replied the host, "last night-last night a reverend capuchin came here to see us, and whilst he was drinking a cup of liquor, and discoursing with my children about religion, he heard a terrible voice, which seemed to issue from hell, and which inveighed so against the reverend father, that, almost terrified to death, he made his escape, and no one knows what is become of him. DANGLE IN HIS SENSES. MR. EDITOR, You must needs remember me, I am your old friend, DAN. GLE, who was formerly so soundly drubbed by another friend of yours, called CATO,* but the wholesome discipline failed of its effect, for my wit was diseased. Then I was, like Pa. nanti, the Don Quixote of the Theatre. The late conduct of the players has, however, brought me to my senses. I seem like the Spanish knight, as described by his immortal biographer, to have slept six hours, and to have awakened perfectly cured of my derangement or theatrical knight erran. try. I can scarcely believe that I ever could have had such monkeys for my gods! What! for seventy nights and more to play unheard, and to suffer the further degradation and insult of hissing, hooting, and pelting, merely for the receipt of a few shillings per night! Are these my proud, my noble, liberal-minded friends? Am I at last compelled irresistibly to confess that what Dr. Johnson said to Garrick was no jest→→→ "Feeling-PUNCH has no feeling!" They are now degraded lower by many degrees than ever they were in the memory of man. PUNCI loses in dignity of character by comparison with them. If he be guilty of any thing vile and base, he is * See Vol. II. p. 132. 269. † Vol. VI. p. 215. an involuntary agent, but here the players for seventy nights perform the meanest acts, and exhibit the most pitiable con temptibility of mind, willingly and without expostulation. I have had my six hours sleep, and I exclaim with the knight, Heaven be praised, for having restored me to my rea son! My judgment," said he, " is now free and clear of the shades of ignorance. I am the declared enemy of Amadis de Gaul, and of all his infinite and detestable lineage." Such is my case, and I say the same of the whole race of players! The Spaniard was in his madness, Don Quixote de la Mancha, but in his senses he was Alonzo Quixano, the Goodand I shall follow the example, making any change rather than continue to be disgraced by the title of Dec. 24, 1809. DANGLE. ON THE ALTERATIONS OF SHAKSPEARE. 2 "The rage for retouching, and, as it was said, correcting and improving our best authors, was the very error of the times.' Murphy's Life of Garrick. KING JOHN. This play was originally written in two parts by Shakspeare, but it was afterwards compressed by him into one. Two other plays were written on the same subject; the first, called, the Troublesome Reign of King John," is ascribed by Mr. Malone to Marlow; it does not appear ever to have been a popular piece, nor indeed was Shakspeare's, till Rich revived it in 1736. It had not been peformed till that time for 120 years. In 1744, Cibber produced his Papal Tyranny in the Reign of King John, which he says in his preface he has endeavoured to make more like a play than what he found in Shakspeare." Cibber, after having quitted the stage for several years, performed the part of Pandulph, at the advanced age of seventy-three. Garrick, probably disgusted at Cibber's arrogance, in saying he had amended Shakspeare, got up the original play, and drove the new one completely off the stage. Davies observes that "Cibber's confidence in his abilities was extreme; he has not only mixed his cold crudities and prosaic efforts, with the rich food of Shakspeare, F-VOL. VII.* |