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Elliston put together, in advising for the best.

Caius Gracchus.

A Roman tragedy, from the pen of Mr. Knowles, written in the style of Kean and Macready, though somewhat too much in the style of the latter, has been produced at this theatre, and has met with tolerable success. All who remember Virginius, remember that it had great feeling, spirit, and power, but that it often failed in the too earnest endeavours to be simple and natural. The language disdained the accustomed harmonies of verse, and broke itself up into short, uneven, and trite sentences, such as we should hear in Thames-street or the Strand. Now tragedy certainly ought to keep its state: the ideal should never be lost sight of. In the present production there is, we think, still less of energy and beauty of thought, and even less of harmony of language. The colloquies are so familiar, that a person must be very foolish or very improvident to pay seven shillings for permission to hear by lamp-light what he certainly may hear by daylight, without in the least molesting his money.

Caius Gracchus is not, as our readers will suppose from the foregoing remarks, very remarkable for any striking incident or dramatic interest, -but there is so much of continual bustle and so regular a progress of events, that the audience are insensibly borne through the five acts, without an opportunity of rebelling at a deficiency of poetry, or an absence of strong passion or character. The main incidents are these-Caius Gracchus appears before the tribunal, at which Vettius is arraigned by Opimius-and procures his freedom. This symptom of power over the people alarms the senate, and Caius is appointed questor on foreign service; Opimius, general. The campaign is supposed to pass between the first and second acts-and Caius, on return, is chosen tribune, having triumphed over a malicious accusation of Opimius. Drusus, a miserable co-tribune with Caius, is set to displace, by pretended kindnesses to the people, his colleague from the place he holds in their love. The mob, swayed easily by the li

beralities of Drusus, swerve from their tribune. Opimius is appointed consul, and seeks to insult Caius as he is going to sacrifice. The followers of Gracchus resent this—and kill one of the lictors sent to disperse them. The senate demand the life of Caius;-and with difficulty he is prevailed on to head his people-and make a stand against oppression. He parts with his wife-who retires with the great mother, Cornelia! to the temple of Diana for protection. Gracchus is defeated-and retreats to his wife and mother-where he stabs himself, to avoid the enemies that closely pursue him. There is a good scene in the first act, where Caius parts with his family;-and it is in such scenes of conjugal tenderness that the power of Mr. Knowles is principally seen.

The character of Gracchus is spiritedly drawn, but its dignity is not sufficiently sustained throughout the piece. It appears to have been clipped and fractured to suit the hasty sketchy style of Mr. Macready's acting. The author must ever fit this gentleman as correctly as the tailor, or he will return the goods on hand. In parts of Caius Mr. Macready played energetically and cleverly,-but at the close of the performance we felt unsatisfied, as though we had witnessed a representation of imperfect study and harsh mannerism. The tragedy is evidently written to display one actor only. It is amonodrame, and we should almost advise the manager to try one performance with the hero alone, and let the other characters speak from behind scenes, as they do in the Polly Packet. When will authors learn the folly of writing for the player instead of for the public? When will they suffer tragedy to take the lead of the tragedian?

Mrs. Bunn, as the papers correctly say, looked the noble matron, Cornelia, well. Mrs. West's Licinia was not so interesting as Miss Foote's Virgilia-and the characters are in truth the same. Mr. Terry gets harder than ever! He really grinds the English language to dust.

The prologue was bad:-but the epilogue had nearly administered poison to the piece. It was hissed off!-We should not omit to mention

that Mr. Macready contrived his of course, has a countryman or two of death with great dignity-he insinu- his ! ated the dagger into his body with a Poor Tom Dibdin's Cabinet was solemnity worthy the Roman suicide. the opera selected by himself or the

COVENT-GARDEN THEATRE. manager, and bespeaking a most eril Mr. Young has returned to this taste in the one or the other. What house, after an unworthy absence of a Cabinet of characters !

What a a season, and as he is a favourite dialogue! What songs! The muwith certain play-goers and party- sic however is pleasing, and music givers, we must not object to his will float Folly's vessel at any time. being engaged, even though the Mrs. Bartley, after a long retireterms may be a little outrageous. ment, has appeared again upon the If little David Garrick could peep' boards of this theatre. We always from his grave, he would go mad at admired the talent and good sense the salaries given since his decease. which marked this lady's perform

Venice Preserved has been well ances; but we almost rejoiced in her acted: Young in Pierre, Charles departure from the stage, for we Kemble in Jaffier, and Miss Lacy in thought she had quitted the anxieties Belvidera. We remember John and jealousies of a public life for the Kemble in Pierre, and Mrs. Siddons serenity and comfort of a private one. in Belvidera :-the first is gone for It is not for us to pry into the causes ever—and the last has taken to sleep or motives which may influence her by the Brighton poppy-fields, so as return,- though we can easily conto stifle our hope of ever beholding jecture, that even the quiet and the her more. It must be a large poppy- solace of a retired life may not be field that will make us forget either able to lull the spirit which has once the brother or the sister!

fed upon popular applause. It is Mr. Sinclair, after a six years' so- hard for a person to leave off fame, journ in Italy, has brought his mel- when once the taking it has become lowed and accomplished voice back a habit. Mrs. Bartley, at any rate, to England, -and we hail its return has no reason to regret revisiting her with pleasure, for we have never old friends on account of the recepperceived the good effects of pure tion she met with, for it was cordial air and study so finely manifested as and enthusiastic in the extreme. The in this gentleman's voice. He is now public shook hands at seeing her, and decidedly a masterly and beauti- seemed delighted at finding her in ful singer. All the harshnesses and brave case and spirit. She does, inuncertainties of his tones are gone, deed, look as if she had not been and the music floats on his voice with pining in retirement-and we are a gracefulness and a power perfect- right glad of it. But, forsooth, that ly delightful. He glides into the person must have a prodigious tum falsetto, without suffering you to dis- for unhappiness who could be very tinguish where he quitted his natural miserable with Mr. Bartley-or we tones—and his shake is more rich and cannot read the temper in the coungushing-more like the ardent throb. tenance. of the nightingale than any thing we Mrs. Bartley played Mrs. Beverley have yet heard. All he has to in the Gamester, and with great avoid is, a too frequent wandering force and truth. But we dislike the into the falsetto—and an occasional play. It is a direct set at one pasnasal earnestness, peculiar, as we sion, and Nature never makes such. thought, to Mr. Braham. Mr. Sin- She is to perform Constance in King clair appears to us to have few de- John, but we cannot notice that fects which he could not easily rec- performance in this number. The tify.

Gamester was produced, we suppose, He has not, to be sure, improved to meet the agitation of the times; in his acting, or in his mode of speak- but this public fostering of horror and ing; and, for a person who has vi- irritation at their very birth is, to say sited that land of sweet sounds, Italy, the least, premature and misjudged. we cannot but feel surprised that he How can twelve dispassionate juryshould still carry Scotland so plainly men be found in England, if every on the tip of his tongue; but Italy, prejudicebe angered and fomented? Å

a

minor theatre has had even the base- from the Emperor Montezuma, who offer ness to dramatize the very subject him golden presents and assistance to de. which is now so over alive in Lon- part; the former of which he accepts, but don--and the lane, the gig, and the of course he refuses to leave the country uncottage have been brought on the till he has seen the Emperor. This em.. stage !—The Lord Chief Justice of bassy is accompanied by Teluxo, a Mexican the Court of King's Bench, however, hero, who loudly declaims against the turned theatrical critic for once, and foreign sorcerers, and, receiving the pre

sent of a sword from Cortez, threatens to delivered an opinion which crushed employ it to his destruction. The next the piece.

act opens with Cortez on his way towards Cortez; or, the Conquest of Mexico. Mexico ; he is attacked by the independent

Plot-writing is not particularly Tlascalans and Mexicans, and here a dashour forte ; and we would rather at ing battle takes place, of which more anon. any time write a gross of Anniversary. Their submission rapidly follows the vicOdes after Mr. Fitzgerald, than sit tory of the Spaniards, and Teluro, in condown to the dry task of detailing the

cert with the priesthood of Chollula, lays a incidents upon which a modern dra- plan for the destruction of the Spaniards, ma is constructed. A little patriot- Mexico - Montezuma, in consequence of the

while passing through that town towards ism—a hair-breadth escape-a heap late victory, having overcome his objection to of love-a battle and a burnt castle

a friendly reception in his capital. Cortez is -and you have “ a grand romantic apprized' of this danger by a Tlascalan, play!” The heroes must slap their whose life he had saved, and defeats it just hearts every five minutes—and the in time to save his Indian love, Marina, heroines lay their hands upon their who had been led away by her brother Teleft sides, and sing !-Cortez is luxo, unknown to him, from being sacrimade up of all these ingredients, ficed by the priests to their ugly Pagod. with a nice spice or two of Indian This transaction, and the destruction of the

Cortez

. feathers--copper skulls-fighting over temple, concludes the second act.

— bridges—and long-tailed horses. All subsequently escapes another snare by readers, we conjecture-all our read- rina; and the piece terminates with the

means of the intelligence obtained by Maers, we are certain—have read of triumphal entry of the Spaniards into Cortez—the renowned Cortez-stout Mexico. So much for the main story, . Cortez, who with eagle eyes "stared which is quite enough for our purpose, at the Pacific !” Romance lies as without dwelling upon the interest arising richly over his history as poet or from the relationship of Teluxo and Madramatist could yearn for-and no rina, and an underplot borrowed from the imagination could add to its lustre. Indian Emperor of Dryden, in which What fabulist could out-dream the two brothers love the same female, and are Conquest of Mexico! It has been led into the usual game at cross purposes,

both in love and war, on that account. well remarked, that the horses could never have been more aptly intro- These incidents are all-sufficient duced than in the present piece ; for for the purpose of the equestrian, it will be remembered, that the hero the pedestrian, the patriot, the muhad a small force with hiin, and the sician, and the lover; and, accordmanager's Cortez is correct in the ingly, Mr. Bennet is great on his number of his cavalry to a single nag. legs, (to use a parliamentary phrase) The following sketch of the plot is and Mr. Ducrow is great of his legs from a contemporary print; and as it – Mr. Grieve is triumphant in his briefly and clearly relates the story, pencil, and Mr. Cooper is mighty in we are glad to find a substitute instead his declamation; Miss Paton shivers of awkwardly serving ourselves. the air with her bravura, and Mr.

Bishop revels in the pleasures of The piece opens with the meeting of tasteful compilation. There is much, the Spanish soldiery, and the conspiracy indeed, for the eye, and much for the of two of their chiefs to reject the authority ear; when a horse has whisked his of Cortez, and return to Cuba. Cortez tail half over the pit, and powdered successfully appeals to his companions in half the orchestra with 'sawdust. arms, who desert their seducers, and the latter are put under arrest. Hearing that There is Paton scattering her vivid the inhabitants are about to attack him, the notes about the very next moment; Spanish leader burns his fleet, and leaves and the next to that, there is “ Love his army no choice but conquest or death; in thine eyes," pleasing thee with and in ihe meantiinc, ambassadors arrive her fair features and sensible voice,

The opera, (we believe it is called opera) was very well acted, allowing for the alarm which the bipeds evidently labour under, in guarding against a contact with the quadrupeds. Mr. Cooper, Mr. Cooke, and Mr. Bennett played with good spirit, but poor Cooke had to stand out a long and ferocious song of Miss Paton's; which we, who had seats, thought would never have ended. She rang a complete change of triple,—what d'ye call 'ems! Not a note was wrong or left out. All we feared was that she would tire Cooke, who waited to bear her from danger to danger, and that she would get her head into a horse's chancery! Really, if this style be the triumph of singing, we wish to enjoy few such victories. It must be fatiguing to the singer; and it really shakes the hearer into little sixpences. Our notion is, that where sentiment is not,-music is not music. Miss Tree, who has certainly not the execution of Miss Paton (melody forbid that she should have), is worth all the Patons on the earth, with a dozen or two of other popular singers thrown in, for pure heartsinging. Her speaking is singing" her very foot has music in't" as she moves, so truly does harmony show itself in the person it loves. Miss Paton is fearful in a storm of song but give us Miss Tree for the soft showers of melody and its sunshine. The papers have been cavilling about the latter lady's sudden absence, some alleging that she will not play second to Miss Paton,-and others more properly leaning to the statement made by her friends and physician, that she is too ill to perform; she has no cause, that we know of, to dread a comparison with Miss Paton, and she always looks to us too delicate to be quite out of the reach of illness.

Mr. Fawcett enacted a cowardly farrier, who, of course, follows the heels of the horses, with a knack which makes nonsense very agreeable. He is so old and good a stager, that no author may fear trusting very bad jokes in his hands. He sang a song about a widow of Estremadura, which, though dull, as dull could be, tickled the audience into an encore. But we hear the horses trampling and must give them a charge before we drop our monthly

curtain.

The horses, reader! are at both houses,-tittupping, snorting, sidling, tail-whisking, galloping, dying, with a zeal very inglorious and unbecoming in this weak, piping period. Mr. Elliston's horses are numerous, and of many colours. They are too, if we may say it without offence, apparently a leetle nearer the corn-bin than Mr. Ducrow's. Not, Mr. Ducrow, that we mean to say, Mr. Elliston's cattle are fit for Sadler's prize show, or beastly fat,-or very fat, -or too fat. Neither do we say, that thine are "lean as is a rake;" but, if we were called upon to decide, we should say Mr. Elliston's had the flesh, and thine, good Mr. Ducrow, the bone.

Mr. Elliston's stud, too,

has a good variety of colour, and the tails are well suspended, and admirably fastened-whereas, Ducrow, in thy lot, the brown rather predominates, and one tail told a tale one night (by nearly getting thrown from its horse) which, we trust, is not a common occurrence. On the other hand, however, if Mr. Elliston's nags are better in the foregoing points, they are worse in others. They cover less ground in their gallop-that is, they take up their little frenzied legs, and (like the hackney coachman and the countryman) set them down where they took them up: They are less profuse of the sawdust amongst the fiddlers. They dot too much:whereas, thy chargers, Ducrow, get two yards in ten minutes, and really seem to go-thine turn about-caper

plunge-and actually leap a poplar with the courage of hunters. Mr. Elliston's crack-horse astounds the gallery with carrying a lady up the Cataract of the Ganges; and, truly, this sounds no bad feat-but thy cock-horse, Ducrow, wheels about— ascends a precipice, and flings a wild Indian over a bridge into the gulf below! This last beats Mr. Elliston's horse all to tatters. In short, for we must cut our parallel short, the spectator, who is thoroughly fond of fourlegged actors, must go to both houses, and study both the studs. We suppose there will be no end to these cattle shows till a horse gets really wild, and makes a stepping block of Mr. Ware's head some night, previous to a comfortable skull-gallop over the pit. We would give seven shillings to be in the second tier on

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EARLY ITALIAN POETS.

LAPO GIANNI.

THERE is an account given by Muratori,* of a manuscript of Alfonso Gioja's, a literary man at Ferrara, which contained, besides other unpublished poems of an early date, some Canzones and Ballatas, to the number of about nine, by Lapo Gianni. "This author," he adds, "is supposed to have lived much before Dante; but his manner of composing does not show it, being devoid of antiquated words." This proof, even if it were founded in fact, does not seem to be quite satisfactory; because a writer will sometimes outstrip his age in this respect. A better might have been found in the silence of Dante concerning him; for it is difficult to suppose that that writer should not have seen his poems if they had been composed before his time; and that, seeing, he should not have noticed them in his Treatise de Vulgari Eloquentiâ. I am in possession of only two of them, one a Canzone in the Giunta collection, fol. 104, and the other a Ballata, which I copied from the third volume of the Anecdota Literaria ex MSS. Codicibus eruta, edited at Rome, without date, but a modern

Questa rosa novella

where genius still might triumph, why should the frivolities of Astley's, and the pranks of Bartholomew Fair, be played off, and in double tinsel? Lastly, if horses must draw (and they generally do) why should they not be kept to the afterpiece, so that the stage should, for a short time, be free and safe for common sense, and two-legged performers; as until this year it has invariably been? Will any managers answer these questions?

book, pp. 452. The Canzone, beginning,

Amor nuova, ed antica vanitate, does not bear out Muratori in his assertion; for it has at least two old words: sorviziato, overcharged with faults, and sembra, not found in the Dictionaries, but here used in the sense of semblea, an array, or assembly;

Molte fiate stando teco in sembra.

The Ballata has not indeed this mark of antiquity, but it has another which is scarcely less conclusive; and that is, that, though in a style exceedingly pure and beautiful, it has nothing of "concetto" in it. The first line suggests a comparison with Waller's "Go, lovely rose." In that pretty song it is evident that the poet, before he began, had determined how he should conclude. fore, in the proper sense of the word, It is, therea 66 Concetto," though not a faulty one. It is the address of a courtierpoet, who has considered beforehand what he shall say or sing to the lady with the flower he presents to her. The Ballata is as unpremeditated as the loose notes played by a shepherd boy on his flageolet.

Che fa piacer sua gaia giovanezza,
Mostra, che gentilezza,

Amor, sia nata per virtù di quella.
S'io fossi sofficiente

Di racontar sua maraviglia nuova,
Diria come natura l'ha adornata;

• Della Perfetta Poesia, L. i. c. 3.

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