The National Register. — London, England, 1814-10-02 00:00:00

THE NATIONAL 11SGISTElt. DRAMATIC REGISTER. covENT tARnsN. A new piece in fin ee acts, called "The Forest of Bondy," sus produced at this Theatre on Friday night. Having been represented with the greatest success at Paris, where it assda its first appearance, and attracted the notice of our papers, ms its subject is already partially known. It is (minded on the sagacity of a'dog. who, according to histarical records, re vealed the spot where his master had been buried, Snd after wards meeting the murderer, rushed upon him and would Crave torn him to pieces had he not been prevented. The same alcmonstrations cif rage appealing every time he encountered the criminal, suspicion at last fell upon the latter. Accord ing to the customs of the times the case was referred to the " Judgment of God." The dog, being the accuser. was appointed to fight the accused, and all the forms of chivalry wet e observed. The lists were thrown open : the challenged entered armed with a stout cudgel, the chal lenger with the weapons he had received from nature. The combat began. Light and vigilant, the dog avoided his ad versary's blows, and seizing an opportunity, fastened on his throat, brought him to the ground, and compelled him to acknowledge his crime. Thus far the historical recotd : its outlines have been al tered in order to fit them for the stage : new characters have been brought in, and the fable now stands as follows : The Colonel of a Ft ench regiment, after an engagement in which one of his officers has distinguished himself; confers on hivi by a royal mandate the command of his own company, and as a proof of persoval esteem his dang . hrer's hand. His rival in love and in ambition is Maitaire, a bowl e roffiocr, who provokes him to fight, and is spared by the generosity of his conqueror. Autry, 1 ,. Abbot) the Captain, is obliged to pass through the forest; Maftaire follows and mardersitim. The scene now grew striking. On the curtains rising for the se cond act, a farm house, with it , crakes, occupied the stage. It was the dead of night ; a dog was heard harking; he hounded across, sprung to the bell at the house door, and rung it incessantly till the mistress of the farm appeared with her lantern. Nothing could pacify the dog, which colitinued bounding and harking violently ; the lantern was his ob ject; it was set down on the ground, seized in a moment by, this extraordinary creature, and carried off. The old womati• excited by his anxiety followed him. The murderer now. appeared gliding back to his chamber with 'the Strongagita tiou of recent blood upon him. In a moment after, the cry of mut der was beam d, ;tad the village roused by the repot t that Auhry Mid been found freshly buried on the spot where his dog tire up the earth. Flario, a dumb bay, is seized on the suspicions evidence of having the parse of the dead man found in his bosom. Ilis attempts at defeace, under the heavy calamity of his nature, were most touching-, and very•. gracefully conceived by Miss Routh. , Ile is, however, car . tied off to punishment, but afterwards respited, in copse quence of the old woman's (Mrs. Davenport) discoveries, which at length fix the crime on Mottaire (Farley). Ile be trays himself by his trepidation ; the blood on his belt aCCU• insulates the proof; be attempts to shoot himself, is pre vented, and at leagth olks away from his guards. The village is up in arms against him ; be is chased through the mood, his pursuers are distanced, be has just escaped, when the formidable dog is again heard. lk is found once mare, and in the final attempt to. escape by plunging down the mountain stream. fired at by the guard, and killed. Unfolded into action, vivified by the exertions and abili ties of the performers, adorned with expressive and pleasing orfr. 0. melody, and (lad in all the magnifieerice Of wild and appro priate scerrry, these materials produce a most interesting - drama. The characters are .well drawn: the-style is simple and .easy, the sentiments just and natural. No attempts at w:t reveal the want of it in their au Affecting in its serious parts, it is not disgusting in its light ones, but dis plays that rustic pleasantry which may be called the comic of nature, •nnt of farce. Its situations are all happy, and in Use Highest degree interesting. It is scarcely possible that the feelings should be more powerfully affected than they are in the scene in which the dumb boy, chasged with the course of murder, has only the eloquence of his eyes and gesso 's . ' to vindicate his innocence. •His aecusers arc the friends of the murdered, •eager to avenge his death, and possessed of proofs that strike with all the force of conviction. His defen der is the olst woman who has sheltered his infancy,aed whose assertions may be considered as dictated by par tiaiity. His interpreter is an artless girl of fifteen, who does not conceal her love, and is therefore equally interested in giving a fa vourable turn to his answers. The Pantomimic acting of Miss Booth in this scene, the rapid changes of her countenance, the speaking expiesion of her eyes, the elegance and eloquence of her gestures can never be stupassed, were most ally supported by the trembling eagerne , s, the vary ing emotions, the love inspired intelligence of Miss Foote, wh o reads Florio's 30111, now with anxious fear, and now with ex ulting. joy. This young ladv,• throughout her part rendered her beauty only a secondary consideration, and put so much grace, feeling, and nature, in her acting, as to touch every heart. Mrs. Davenport also di:played much force of feeling. Her hopeless defence of the Boy when he is first accused, her unshaken confidence in his imioceirce and the enertsy . with which he urges the presumptive evidence which transpires against Manaire at the very moment 1.1,Ti0 is led to the scaffold, were bursts of a superior CX crilence. Liston, in Blaise, was, as usual, hresistably thoxigh chastly comic. Abhott, in Captai.l Aulnyi, led U 3 to regret that the part did not open a wider field to his ex ertions. Farley, in Vallaire, ably depicted the torments of jealousy, followed by those of remorse ; and Barrymore, Egerton, and all the performers, without excepting the Dog, exerted themselves most successfully. The Music, by Mt. Bishop, possesses inure than common expression. It powerially assists the pantomimic parts of the piece. Bowesn the first and second acts, and before the curtain is raised, it continues the story in the most in telligible manner, and narrates the murder of Captain Au bro. The fatal pistol is heard, followed by the groans of • the dying, and the precipitate fiieht of the assassin. If the Music, lice the Piece, be not an Importation, it does great honour to Mr. Bishoo's invention and taste. The scenery is appropriate and beautiful. It is classically illustrative of the age in which the action of the drama is Placed. The last scene represents a cataract of real water, ' surrounded with rocks, and surmounted with a fragile bridge, is full of wild grandeur and sublimity. The " Forest of Bondy" is likely to prove as popular in this metropolis as -iu France. It was received in the most favourable manner, and announced for a second representae: tion amidst redoubled peals of applause. It is a si►►gular fact, that the contract price of the best ox beef furnished to the military in the county Of Middlesex, is but 6d. per pound, and in many of the other counties, from 4d. to sd. per pound, and vet meat of like quality can not he pi °cured in the London markets under 10d. pa; pound.