Abbildungen der Seite

the Winter Theatres, for whose assistance To-morrow, under the dire&tion, we un: be was obliged to wait till those Theatres derstand, of a Board of Management, closed.

confitting of five Gentlemen, who are to « He ventured, in every shape, very be aslifted by an Acting Manager. The deeply on a limited privilege, which this Theatre has been well cleaned, and the mode of speculation rendered Atill more lobbies newly painted.--Mrs. Jordan, limited.

Mrs. Young, Miss Decamp, Mesirs. “ The younger Colman, our present Bannister, Charles Kemble, and Suett, Proprietor, succeeded his father in the were respectively applauded on their re. License, but bought the Property, at the appearance. expence of several thousand pounds, and

23. Mr. DWYER, who appeared once thus came into a Theatre, where the cur.

at Drury Jane Theatre last season, as tom of depending on the movements of Belcour, in The West Indian, resumed the the winter-houses has now curtailed its lame character as a regular member of short season of nearly one third.

the company ; and we think his talents The object at length in view is, to

cannot fail of being very useful. (See remedy the evil, without invidious and

our account of bim, Vol. XLI. p. 381) vain attempts to attack much more powerful Theatres, who have an undoubted

Mr. John Bannister has been appointed privilege of acting, plays all the year and Mr. Kelly Superintendant of the

Stage Manager of Drury-lane Theatre, round. The Proprietor has no intention of tiring the public ear by a querulous Musical Department. appeal; he admits that others have the 24. A Miss MARRIOTT (daughter, fullest right to make their property as

as we understand, of a coachmaker in productive as possible : he wishes merely John-Itreet, Tottenham court-rcad) made to follow their example, and solicits your her entré on the boards of Covent Garden support in his efforts in establishing a as Clarinda, in The Suspicious Husband ; Company of Actors, totally independent which the performed with a conliderable of them. There are but' three houses degree of judgment, and was much appermitted to give you regular batches plauded. She has, in consequence of her of plays in London ; and this house favourable reception, been fince an. (by far the most humble) lees no reason, nounced for the characters of Mrs. Sullen when they will be all making their bread, and Jane Sbore. on the 15ih of next May, why even Three

25. Mr. CHERRY, a Comedian of of a trade should not perfectly agree. much provincial celebrity, last from Bath,

“ Should his arrangements succeed, but of longer standing in Dublin, made which are, even at this early period, his first appearance at Drury-lane as Sir actively forming, you will (on the re

Benjamin Dove, in the Comedy of The opening of the Theatre) greet the return Brothers, and Lazarillo, in Two Strings to to London of some favourites, who, it is Your Bow; both of which he performed trusted, will find no diminution of your in a manner that deserved and obtained protection :--you will witness new and very general applause.--In the former riling merit, which it is your marked part he not unfrequently reminded us of practice to foster. There is no theatrical the admirable a&ting of our old favourite town in the United Kingdoms which will King; and in the latter, both in gelture not be resorted to, in the hope of procur- and manner, he might have been thought ing you its choicest produce :-and, in

to now some imitation of Munden ; but addition to other authors, you will be in

we believe Mr. Cherry to be much the treated, early in the season, to thew your oldest perforner of the two ; and, there. indulgence to the Proprietor's further fore, if there be imitation, it may be diffi. attempts at dramatic composition, whore cult to say on which party it lies. Mr. pen, he humbly hopes, notwithstanding Cherry's person is petite, but his face is the long duration of your encourage- well calculated for comic expression ; ment, is not yet quite worn out in your and, though he now and then betrayed a service."

few provincial habits in his by-play, he This statement was received through must be considered as a valuable acquilout with frequent marks of approbation; tion to the Drury-lane corps. and concluded amidst loud and continued applause.

PROVINCIAL. THEATRICALS. 16. Drury.lane Theatre opened for the At Brighton Theatre, on the roth of season, with The Inconfiant and Of Age Auguft, a Comedy in three acts, called “ SKETCHES FROM Life," written Now (mote the lyre ! and then, abalh’d, by a Mr. Sicklemore, of that town, was



fpir'd. presented for the benefit of the Author, His fears represling what his hope inby command of the Prince of Wales. With modeft ecstasy he heard your At the conclusion of the Comedy, the praise, [with the bays : following Address, written by Mr. Wilo, While Honour wreath d his temples liams, was spoken by Mr. Betterton :- Unconscious of the Theban's godlike


[course ; IN Beauty's region, 'mong the wise and

He journies, trembling, in an humbler great, I have presum'd to plead our Poet's fate : Gladdens our Shepherds with his Doric May Kindness cheer him on the thorny And feels, with gratitude, your envied


(meed. way,

[day: And chale the milts from his Parnaflian That hour may be, when nerv'd by Let Friendship's beam add vigour to his

your decrees,

(with ease; pow'r,


He'll think with confidence, and write As sweet Favonius breathes upon the

Diffuse the atric Aalhes of the mind; With decent manliness he claims ap: Make all the institutes of Art his own ;

Bid Care recede, and Avarice be kind; plause,

[laws ; And draws his document from Nature's Give , Virtue energy, and Worth re.. Pourtrays the folly-wings the poignant jest,

As Phoebus leads him 'mid the lyric And gives the moral to correct the breast. throng, With whisp'ring accent, and in Syl. Should high Augustus (bowing to the van thades,

(Maids ;

PRINCE] confecrate his song. He woo'd, in numbers, the Pierian




Now Bonaparte, that wond'rous blade, ON HEARING THAT BONAPARTE HAD Chose out the most vivacious maid

SUPPRESSED THE ENGLISH NEWS. Of all the filters fair ;

Admir'd her spirit and her eye,

From which ten thousand lightnings fly, WHEN Liberty in France appear'd, And firtt her brazen landard rear'd,

And eke her martial air! “ Huzza !" cried Bonaparte ;

Ah ! little thought poor Bon. that the « We now shall be sublimely blessid !"

Was the spoilt child of Liberty. Then clafp'd her to his panting breait, · And gave her all his beart;

For her, regardless of their breath, Armd bis Imall body cap-â-pie,

What thoulands were consign'd to death, The Errant-Knight of Liberty.

By night, and eke by day!

" Whilit Pity, from her loft abodę, Away he flew, from clime to clime,

“ O'ertook him on his blood-stain'd road, Unmindful of the lapse of time,

" To look his rage away *." With millions in his train !

In vain! he spurn'd her tender plea,
For Liberty alone he fought !

Devoted all to Liberty.
And deem'd no victory dearly bought,
Her glorious cause to gain ;

An enemy to all mankind,
Whilft, in his van, arose a tree,

He left a plunderd world behind, Inscribed with “ Vive la Liberté !"

To execrate his name! D'er the wide world, in ev'ry zone,

Hark! how Helvetia, Venice, Rome, This nymph had lifters of her own, Lament their melancholy doum ! Bred in each various sphere.

Hark! thousands mourn the same ! One in Helvetia liv'd, so blest!

And yet, “ I come to make ye free,' But O! the loveliest, ard the best, Exclaim'd this man of Liberty !

Hath fix'd her cottage here ! Here, lafe beneath Britannia's eye,

'The Turks sublime, as travellers tell, Dwells the firk-born of Liberty ! Retain a custom, sprung from hell,

• Collins,





By which, when Selim + dies,

Bon. hears with Sad surprise!
His eldest son, a Prince no more, Then bids his mighty thunders roar
Kills all his brothers by the score, Along his wide-extendiog shore,
Or puts out all their eyes.

To drown thy tender lighs ;
Safe policy! condemnd to be

And threats his bappy Gauls, who dare The offspring of French Liberty ! Echo thy plaints, or urge thy pray'r ! S. Bon. resolu'd to be as free,

Hail, blissful Gaul ! hail, land so dear! Where'er he found a Liberty,

Where none mult speak, where none must - He cut the Lady's throat !

hear, My Liberty alone shall thrive,

Except whilft air-ballooning! " Alone my much-lov'd maid hall live," B:hold I a nation proftrate lies !

He bawld, in thond'ring note ! Behold another Louis rise, Then cried, “ My friends! in me ye see By Sultan-like dragooning ! “ Ta'adorer of sweet Liberty !". Arile ! ye shades of millions dead,

And save the maid for whom ye bled ! But when, at length, to bless his life,

RUSTICUS, Mifs Liberty became his wife, He soon found, to his colt,

Cottage of Mon Repos, She was the most unruly jade,

September 1802.
And car'd not what the did, or said,

If once her whims were cross'd !
For Galic Ladies can't be free,

On the IMMORTAL PILLAR of Sub. 'Till unrestrain'd in Liberty.

SCRIPTION, which is, very soor, to be What could be done ? between the two,

erected and dedicated to A LIVING

There was the devil and all to do,
Who ftill should be the master!

For Ma'am fo kick d, and bounc'd, and To

Merit, fled to Heav'n, were wont to swore,

riie, That Bon who never fear'd before, The votive pillar, and the sacrifice.

Now fear'd some dire difafter ! Merit was, then, an unpresuming maid, And oft he bent the lowly knee,

Nurs'd by the Virtues in the secret Made ; In hopes to Gothe Ma'am Liberty ! And, if she heard, by chance, her plaud.

ed name, At lait, his expectations o'er,

[it Fame."

Back the recoiled, “ and bluthod to find His Corfic loul could hear no more, So he resolv'd to bind her ;

And when, at length, her mortal duties o'er,

[thore, So, seizing Madam by the neck,

Heav'n call'd her to its own immortal He rudely threw her on her back, And tied her hands behind her!

Fame, gathering all the god-like acts

the'd done, Exclaimning, “ What is this I lee? “ Is this my once-lov'd Liberty .?"

Engrav'd them on a monumental fone. And now, within the gloom of night,

Now tell me, How does Modern Merit He hears her forrows with affright,

rise ? And mourns his haity choice!

POET. Uplitt's his ever-wakeful head,

Whilit yet a Mortal, she attempts the From murder'd Bourbon's coftly bed,


[car, And trembies at her voice!

A saucy, vulgar wench, the mounts her Arife ! ye shades of millions dead,

Dreli'd in the livery of the God of War! And shield the maid for whom ye bled !

No more her sweetly-glowing cheek is

seen? One other maid, of all that name,

(mien ! Elcap'd his perfecuting fame !

No more her downcaft eyes, and modest She dwells on Britain's Thore !

No more the haunts the deep lequetter'd vale,

stale ! Nor can his arms, nor wretched arts,

Remote from all that might repeat her Hurl to her breast those cruel darts Her filters telt bet re !

But with a noisy voice, and goggling eyes,

(ikies, Ah! lee, the droops her pensive head, And weeps her lovely fillers dead ! She begs full many a lift to reach the

See ! boldly on the public pathlbe Itands, The miid reproofs, and murmurs free, And cries, “Now Thout all longues ! Which tall, o British Maid! from thee, now help all hands." • Or any other Grand Seignior. + Louis the Fourteenth.



Whilf taylors, barbers, tinkers, coblers, Now if a scavenger, but once a day bawl,

[squall! Wheels a full barrow-load of fand away, Filh-women squeak, and butter. women In three wecks time no hillock would be See ! how they strain their arms, their

seen ! legs, their eyes, (lkies ! 'Twould be as level as a bowling-green! To lift that ponderous Merit to the Yet to this mole-bill, rais'd in half-an. See ! how it kicks, and sprawls, and hour,

(pow'r ! strives to fly

Kent trufts the record of her praise and Beyond the reach of every mortal eye! Let, let it go, all hands like r-bal.

POET. loon,

[foon !

The man who builds in fand, as Scrip'Twill tumble back to earth, alas ! too

tures say,

Will soon behold his labours link away i FRIEND.

So, ten years hence, perhaps, in some Too foon?

hard weather,

(ther!!! POET.

Down come the Pillar and the bill togeYes, yes ! too foon, at least, for Ye who the mighty ruin shall behold, me :

Whole grannams now are very, very On earth my motto is Equality.

old, We want no demi-gods among us here !

How will ye ponder on the masly wreck, Off, off with them to Heav'n, their pro. "Till all your wooden pericraniums crack! per sphere!

With sacred awe, O gather all the scraps, FRIEND

And bear them home, within your lea, No, no, my friend I this hero must not

thern laps ;

[dine, go;

So fall five men quit work before they He till has many things to do below : Nor leave one relic of the fately shrine: A good one he, at game of fork and What says the grand inscription ! knife,

[lite !

Have you heard ?
And loves his mutton as he loves his
-But, lo! the Pillar mounts the hill

of fand,


I cannot find it lays one Single word ! Where never yet a single tree could At lealt, it does not mention what's been See! midit the crowd, the fawning agents Worthy of record on a Public Stone.

done, fly, With hat in hand, and fupplicating eye,

It tells us some man's name, and lays, as

how Collecting every farthing they can raile, To fix the Pillar of Iinmorial Praise !

He planted." costly” trees, all in a row ! O, what innumerable crowds will run,

Alludes to some “ improvements” in To view that wonder of ihe World, when

fome “ field,”

[yield. done !


But does not mention what the land will Not Becket's shrine, when Becket was in And lays, as how the Mayor and Corpo And callid together souls from ev'ry na.


(Nation, tion,


Have made a vow to plealure all the Could ever boast, in its most favour'á By giving all the Nation leave to walk So many folks as will assemble here ! On roads repair'd with broken Aints and Artists will come, of ev'ry degree,


[bones, And Crouch before it, on the bended With the fuil liberty to break their knet.

lo climbing ramparts, for a view of POET.

-Itones !!! Is that the noble Pillar, formid to prove

Now this may all be very, very true, A County's glory, and a County's love?

But " about nothing it is much to do.'! Why, lis not higher than our garden

POET. wall !

For common merits ebus to raise a name, FRIEND.

Is trifling with the hallow'd trump of Less fatal, then, my friend, will be its Fame ; tail.

(mound, Yet thus will Vanity and Interest Itrive The Goth-like Danes uprais'd this petty To keep a common character alive ! And plac'd five soldiers here, to watch To thee, O Merit ! oft I bend the knee, around;

[froze! For no man can revere thee more than But when the frost came on, the men were

me !

slonely Avade, They had not room to walk, and warm To thee, sweet nymph i within the their toes! Oii are my filcnt adorations paid !




But when, forgetful of thy modeft name, I seek no more !--for these will give
Thou feat't thyself upon the throne of, Those dear delights I justly prize ;
Fame ;

(raise, Through life they'll teach me how to
Permit 'At thy friends, without a blush, to. live,
Clofe to thy door the pillar of thy praise, And ev'ry worthless care despise,
Then muft I smile contemptuous, and

JBN. refuse

Liverpool, 14th Aug To pay the tribute of no venal muse !

EPITAPH: Thy warmth is juft, my friend ! I cannot fee

[thee. One reason for this fuss no more than

THE LATE MRS. MILLS, Alas! if blocks on blocks are doom'd to rise,

FORMERLY MRS. VINCENT, AND ORIAnd tell each little merit to the skies ;

GINALLY MISS BURCHELL. And, if, whilf living, they proclaim the Inscribed on a Tablet dedicated to her

Memory in St. Pancras Church.

h-yard, Of each pretender to the throne of fame, by her surviving Husband, John Mills, 'Twill soon be dangerous on the roads to Esq. ftray,

[way! Such blocks of all sorts will impede our

AND art thou laid in awful filence here,

Whose voice so oft has charm'd the POET.

public ear!

[the heart, Will Kent her hecatombs of oxen kill,

Who with thy fimple notes could'nt 'Itrike To celebrate this Hero of the Hill ?

Beyond the utmoit skill of labour'd art ! Will feahs, like thule which grateful Oh! may the Pow'r who gave thy dulAtbens paid

cet Arain,

(pain, To her fam'd heroes in th’ Elyhan fbade, And, pitying, rescu'd thee from earthly To this more famous hero be decreed,

Exalt thy Spirit, touch'd with hallow He who on Earıb's a demi-god indeed !


(Choir. FRIEND.

To hymn his praise among th’ Angelic To this my friend, I nothing have to say:

(eft day. Those will know most who live the long


Let the young, and the thoughtless, August 24, 1802.

For pleasure incessantly roam ;

I find as much pleature as they,
"Is not thy fickle charms to share,

In the charms, which detain me at O ftern Ambition ! that I bend ;

home. I court thee not, capricious Fair, Or ask of thee one boon to send.

Some to traverse the ocean for gain, Could'r thou, indeed, Aay Pleasure's Yet their efforts prove often in vain ;

And brave all its billowy foam : wing, And but prolong Life's fleeting hour ;

While I have my riches at home. Or to the mind soft comfort bring,

Some visit the East and the West ; Then I might own thy boundless Or sepair to gay Paris or Rome : pow'r.

But toil is their lot, while I reit, But fince I know thy wav'ring Aate,

At case, with my partner at home. Thy fancy'd joys, how vain they be ; For bliss, some resort thro' the night What sorrows on thy smiles await,

To pavillion or well-lighted dome ; Shall I beltow one thought on thee ?

But from these it has long taken flight, Hale! then, to tinsel'd Folly hafte!

To enliven the scenes at my home. And round her brows thy chaplet Then others, who wish for a change, twine ;

May abroad for variety roam ; Whilft I retire-an humble guest, For me, I would constantly range, To quaff more grateful sweets than

O'er the sweets which invite me at thine.

home. For let but Prudence o'er me fway,

Yet, should absence e'er call me away, And bid each sordid hope subside ;

I will think on the transports to come ; Let Virtue steer me on my way,

When, after the cares of the day, As on Contentment's Aream I glide ; I return to my coltage and some !


and gay?

« ZurückWeiter »