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Rattle, his Servant......Mr. Harley. He talks to the supposed strange
Innkeeper..... ........Mr. Penley.
Mrs. Corbett

ladies, of his losses, of his winnings,
.Mrs. Harlowe.
Emma
.Miss Poole.

of his ruined friend, of bis queer Tbe rich Mrs. Corbett, who bad old aunt, apd bis bumpkin mistress, never seen ber nephew Dasball, pretty much in the same stile of had proposed to him, through the Bond-street sensibility, and pleads ordinary medium of

common the cluse of Vincent so ably, tbat friends, a match with Emma, her on the Captain's re-entrance, be is protegee, to which the gentleman welcomed by hoth Emma and her had

very obligiogly consented. protectress, as an eligible substitute The scene opens with announcing for the tonish Mr. Dashall. Though to us his arrival at an inn in the the little story we have sketched neighbourhood of his aunt's man- may read but indifferently, it is so sion, where he falls into company put together as to produce some with some adventurous spirits ļike comical situations, and highly himself, plays for all he has; and laugbable scenes upon the stage. loses it in a trice. Captain Vin- The discovery of the several per, cent, between whom and Enima sons in the last scene' is full of spithere exists a secret attachment, rit; the music is pretty; but we alights at the same place. He and are bapp'y 'to say it is only an acDashall meet in consequence, but companiment, and by no means ignorant of each other's plans. necessary to recommend the piece Dasball shews his mistress's picture, to the hearty favour and vociferous the last thing of value he possesses applauses of the audience. Á in the world; refuses to sell it, but great portion, indeed, of the sucoffers to stake it at play against bis cess this pleasant trifle bas met rivals money; the enamoured Cap- withi, must fairly be set down to tain accepts the challenge, as the the actors. Wallack was quite only means of obtaining the re inimitable in his representation of semblance of the woman he loves, the thoughtless, beartless, gay, siand is utterly' ruined in his turn. otous, facetious, and intoxicated In the mean time, the aunt of Dashall; and Harley, though bis Dashall, baving beard of his previ- part was beneath bis powers, was ous ill luck, comes with Euma to vivacious and popular as usual. He the Inn to gain more intelligence was londly cheered on giving out, about him and his conduct. She My Aunt" for a second night's walks by accident’into the roon performance. where Vincent is bemoaning, and repenting, and apostropbising, as On Saturday evening, the 19th befits bim, the miviature, which instant, a new Opera, under the Dashall, in mock 'pity of his bar title of The King's Proxy; or, fortune, had presented to him. "A Judge for Yourself," was produced ludicrous'' scene

ensnes' hetween at the same Theatre. It is founded these parties: the lady addressing chiefly on a story taken from our Mr. Vincent as ber nepbew—the own history, during the time of the latter scrupulous abont encourag- Saxon Heptarchy; the outlines of ing ber mistake and Rattle only which are as follow : anxious to confirm it; on their se Edgar, King of England, bay. parating, the real nephew appears, ing heard a favourable report of glorious with impadence and claret. the beauty of Elfrida, daughter of

the

the Barl of Devon, dispatches his whilst Editha, adorned in her lady's favourite (Earl Athelwold) to as- paraphernalia, receives the King, certain it report spoke true; com whom she disgusts by her igno missioning him, if ber charms rance and rnsticity, and the decepproved as resplendent as they had tion is on the point of succeeding, been described, to demand her hand when the arrival of the Earl of iu marriage. Athelwold, on seeing Devon, who, ignorant of the the lady, however, overcome by King's visit at the castle, comes to her charms, forgets his duty to his demand of Athelwold the reason of friend and Sovereign, and solicits his daughter's seclusion from the the lady's band for himself. The world, discovers all, and the favouKing's favourite proves successful, rite is near suffering the whole but fearful the King should dis- weight of his Monarch's anger, cover his want of faitb, he takes when the tears and intercession of the Conntess to a retired castle, bis wife in his behalf, soften the and going bimself to Court, de- King, and obtain pardon for her scribes her only as a common beau- husband. ty, not worthy of a Monarch's at Of these materials, the author, tention, but whose great fortune who we understand is Mr. Arnold, would prove highly acceptable to a has composed a dramatic piece, far subject. The King, upon this re from being destitute of merit. The presentation), resigns all thoughts author of an Opera is generally of the lady, and sanctions his fa- considered as having executed his vourite's marriage with her. Some task if be makes the dialogue a time afterwards, the King deter- pleasing vehicle for the music, but mines to visit his favourite's wife ; Mr. Arnold bas done more. In it then, becomes necessary that many of the scenes, particularly in Athelwold should confess to the that which Athelwold discovers to lady the duplicity of which he had the Countess the duplicity with been guilty, and that he should which he has acted towards her, adopt some plan to conceal from and the last scene, in which she ina the King the beauty of his wife. tercedes with her father and the The Countess, in whose breast her King for his pardon, the dialogue husband bas hy his tenderness-se- is extremely well wrought up. The cured himself an interest not to be scene between the King and Editha, shaken, even by the loss of a crown, the sham Countess, was highly now participates in all Athelwold's amusing. Miss Kelly in Editha, fears, and suggests, as the most did ample justice to the author by probable means of securing bim her acting, as did Miss Poole, in Elfrom danger, that during the King's frida. Wallack, as the King, and visit one of her attendants, Editha, Fawcett, as the Earl of Devon, should pass as the Countess, by T. Cooke, as Athelwold, and Har'which the King would be deceived ley, in the character of chief huntse as to ber beauty and accomplish man and attendant on Athelwold, ments, and the Earl avoid all sus. were deservedly well received. The picions of baving betrayed his trust. music is by Mr. T. Cooke, and In furtherance of this plan, the though it has not strictly a claim Countess assumes the disguise of a to povelty, is in general pretty, and cottager's daughter, and retires to in many parts possesses very consi. the residence of Elitha's father, derable merit. Several of the songs

od 2

were

were encored particularly a duet, pieceof minor importance. These, which was sweetly sung by T. thrown togetber in an intricate Cooke and Pyne, a bumorous one plot, and sustained by dialogue full between Miss Kelly and Harley, of pleasantry and point, present a and two plaintive airs which were very laughable Comedy, which, admirably executed by Miss Poole. without doubt, will have a con-The House was crowded to ex- siderable run. Of the actors we cess, and the piece was given out must speak in terms of praise, parfor repetition with scarcely a dis- ticularly of Terry, Jones, Mathews, sentient voice.

and Tokely. The house was very well filled; and the Comedy was

given out amidst loud applause. HAYMARKET THEATRE.

The following extract from it, On Saturday night, August 5, a will give a fair specimen of the aunew Comedy was produced at this thor's talents : theatre, under the title of “ Living in London.” The chief merit of Scene—a Street, Enter MOTLEY, the piece is a playful ridicule of

hastily. certain artificial cliaracters in so. Mot. Here I am, cut adrift for ciety, called fashionables. In the the day, wherever Fortune pleases play the characters of this descrip- to tide me :-as to a wind, I may tion are, Lord Killcare (Mr. Rus- whistle for it; that's the only way sell), a nobleman who ruins bin. I can raise it. Stop! Who have self by gaming, and Lady Killcure we lere ? A land or a sea gull ? (Miss Greville), his wife, fond of

Viv. Hey! What fellow's that? notoriety and mischief; Vivid (Mr. -Ha! that face Jones), a thougbtless, lively spark, Mot. That every thing? Wbat, following his own view of pleasure Captain Vivid ! any where and every where; and Viv. Motley! my old Serjeant! Apeton (Mr. Jobstone), a good and in this state? natured accommodating friend, a Mot. Ah! your Honour! bere cheat at play, a sort of spaniel to I am, almost the last bone of a fetch and carry. The other cha- skeleton regiment, clean picked, as tacters in the piece are Lord Cla- your Honour may see. Those morcourt (Mr. Foote), made jea- were glorious times, your

Honour, lous hy a supposed intrigue of when your Honour and I, and Lady Clamorcourt (Mrs. Belfield) forty or fifty thousand more of us, with Vivid, who, in one of his rambled about with our swords and roving moments, has assumed the bagnets-tapt a cask with a charge, name of Neville, her brother; and turn'd a whole flock of merinos Specious (Mr. Terry), who has been and mad bulls into beef-steaks and guardian of Vivid, and has an an mutton-chops in a moment. nuity depending on his life; his Viv. Yes, you were always ada daughter, Prudence; Motley (Mr. dicted to free living, Sergeant, and Mathews), a soldier who has been I fear your had habits will never wounded, and is bired as servant be relinquished. I am sorry to see by Vivid, and Potiphar (Tokely), you thus. a Quaker, nephew of Specious, a Mot. Misfortime's livery, your droll character. There are three Honour. or four other characters in the Viv. Imprudence, you meani

You

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You bave shretedness, and might noble place it would be for a storm use it to advantage.

-bless us all ! such a show in the Mot. Ab! your Honour, I had jewellers and cooks' shops ! always too much quicksilver about Viv. Ha! ha! well said, my old me, to allow me to get gold. I set soldier ! You speak feelingly. out on the wrong road, and bave Mot.. Well i

may.

London got scratched and torn iu striking might do for a storm, but it's a across to gain the right one. My confounded place wben one can't father, please yqur Honour, was a raise the wind. I'm sure I may say grocer at Gosport-round as

I've been pretty well put to it. cheese, and hot aš mustard. I Your Honour knows, a French lov'd glory better than grocery grenadier at Salamanca, gave me a emptied the till one night into my certificate for Chelsea---a touch in pocket, and marched off with a re the tibia, as our Surgeon said. He cruiting party, full of spirits, Bri wanted to cut off my trotter-No, tish and Foreigo. As I liked iny no, says I, I'm an old soklier; I'll own will, the old gentleman took keep my post; I can march yet, care I should have notbing to do though I ilo balt. with bis-but left all his Dutch Viv. Ha! ha! cheeses to my mother. Sbe, poor Mot. Home I came; and what soul, lamented the loss of a hus to do then? We bad peace, or I band so, that she soon--took ano might still have hobbled on with ther-a needy balf-pay Ensign (no my balberd. London, thinks I, is offence to your Honour), who the place for me-but then, the gobbled up her and her guineas, thing was-Living in London ! and marched off for these head. Viv. Ay a question, indeed ! quarters; though, indeed, be writes Mot. Thinks I, the way to do it, very frequently, as I hear, to ber is to do otbers-50, with a tolerable on little slips of stampt paper, re purse, (the fruit of my campaigns) questing an answer at sight from an Ensign's second-hand suit, and her loving husband, Richard Ape- a flourishing pair of wbiskers, I ton.

landed from the Plymouth coach at Viv. Is it possible? A peton your a military coffee-house. That step-father! Ha! ha!

wouldn't do long. I clear'd my Mot. I used to laugh at it my score and my upper lip, and changed self--but now it's no joke. While my lodging and my character. , I I was in Spain, he got possession set up a sort of shampooing scheme of the Spanish ; for my amiable for the cure of the lumbago. It mother, thinking me dead, adopted wouldn't do-It broke my back. her husband for a son, and seitled I was obliged to hop the twig, and all upon him. Ab! your Honour, turn to another branch. tbrown on the wide world with Viv. What was that? nothing but one's witsI'm sure Mot. Why, wishing to keep in your Honour would think it a poor good company, I turned marker to portion.

a billiard-table in the Strand. Vwo. You think I would ?

Viv. Well selected. Mot. I do, indeed, your Honour. Mot. Far from it for one night, Ah! this London! I've often while I was napping, one of the thought-(though enemies have gentlemen picked my pocket of a tried in vain to get at it).what a week's earnings. That did me.

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No money; and my coat out of wilt run'. better." At that I waxed elbows, I was handsomely equipped wrathful, andfor my present employ. A parti Viv. What! cular friend of tlie King of tbe Pot. Knocked him down.

oc Beggars had just sent me a card for Friend," quoth 1, " there is a a ball and supper at St. Giles's. I gentle reproof for tbee." At that was introduced-appointed Music the people cried with a loud voice cian Extraordinary in St. Martin's so bravo !" court, and Receiver-General of the Viv. Ha! ha! well, but the District !

damsel? Viv. Ha ! ha! musician extra Pot. Thon knowest a large man. ordinary !

sion at the corner of the square Mot. That I resigned soon after which lieth near unto this? -the oyster ladies and the sweeps Viv. Well! in the neighbourhood thought my Pot. Thedamsel sojourneth there. voice not sufficiently rich and husky. Mot. Ay, I know it; my Lord A gentleman, with a gin-woice, Clamorcourt's. who sang duets, with his wife, and Pot. And pray, friend, who art a little girl, in the 'next alley, was, thou? I must candidly confess, thought Viv. Faith; gentlemen, I am very by the best judges, to sing the remiss-Sergeant Motley, formerly Woodpecker better than I.--/Imi- of my company--Mr. Potipbar tates Man's voice)—" But the Specious. Woodpecker"-Woman's)..“ tap Mot. Your Honour's humble ping" --(Girl's) the bollow" servant. . (Man's) -" beech-tree,

Viv. Lord Clamorcourt? what, Viv. Ha! ba !

the popularity.hunter ? Enter POTIPHAR, running. Mot. Yes, your Honour; I'm Pot. Friend Vivid! Friend Vi. one of liis mob. pid!

Pot. One of his moh, say'st thon? Viv. Ha! what success ?

Mot. Yes, your Honour; I get : Pot. Tarry, tarry-I am out of sixpence a day for huzzaing him on wind.

public occasions; and so much a Viv. You've scen her?

mile for chalking bim on the mews? Pot. Yea.

gates and dead walls. It was but Viv. What, track'd ber home? last week I chalked all Piccadilly

Pot. Nay--but I caught the Jar: with B X Y, and Clamorcourt "rey tbat convey'd her home. for ever."

Viv. Faith, you must have run Viv. Ha! ha! faith, you're an well. ,

odd fellow! I see this angel of mine Pot. Yea-most exceedingly. I dwells above me. minded not the scoffs of the people Pot. Most angels do. one snap, tho', in truth, they scoffed Viv. Yea, friend; but the sous much. “ A mad Quaker," crieth of men are the special objects of

“ Holla, friend!" quoth ano their regard.—Egad, that's true, ther. At that I stopped, and he talking of special objects--did you tapped nie the shoulder- get that hill managed at Rook's Friend," quoth he, “thou art yesterday? too full of the spirit; thou rnnnest Pot. Nay, but I will go thitber well, but now thou art tapt, thou straightway.

Mot.

one.

on

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