The National Register.
London, England, 1821-01-14 00:00:00

7IIE NEW TRAGEDY.

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THEATRE ROYAL, COVENT GARDEN.—WE know
few thit:gs su likely to lead to the condenthatian of a
new Play as the raising public expectation vet), high on
she score of its merits; and perhaps in no instance, for
many years, has the anticipation of success been so great
as it was with respect to the new Tragedy of Mt Kau-
uota, which was produced for the first time on Tuesday
last; but the ability and genius of the Author, (Mr.
Proctor, under the assumed title of Barry Cornwall) rose
superior to all the dangers of extreme pre-possession.—
Whether we look to the force of dramatic propriety
preserved from first to last, to the exquisite power over
the ideas which is exercised throughout, or to the beau-
tiful and poetical turn of the language, we hesitate not
to declare it, in our opinion, one of the finest eflurts of
the Muse that has been submitted fur a length of years
to the judgment of the public.
The story is founded on the marriage of the Duke rf
Mirandola (Macready) with Isidora (Miss Foote), she
having previously been betrothed to the Duke's sou,
Guido (C. Kemble.) That sun had gone to the wars,
and was reported to have died in battle ; but he reco-
vered from the wounds which he had received, and wrote
to his father, and to his loved Isidora. These letters were
intercepted by Isabella (Mrs. Fawcett) the Duke's sister,
she plotting to set aside the Duke's sun, that her own
might obtain the Dukedom. The Duke, in the interim,
selected Isidora for his second wife, not knowing, how-
ever, that she had been the beloved of his son. Guido
returns, and he then learns, for the first time, the mar-
riage of his father. C. Kembte's character here was
uncommonly interesting, on the news being imparted
by a false Monk, Gh:raldi (Egerton), who lends himself
to promote Isabelle 's :scheme,. The interview with the
father was also must biprevsive. The whole scene is
narrated with great force. The son charges the father
with having wronged his ofiSpring ; and the Duke
checks his indignant denunciations by remarking that
he is a prince as well as a lather—that Guido is a subject
as well as a son. tie happily retm Is upon illirandola,
thanking hint for being reminded that a prince was spo-
ken to,—for that one word often made chitties to be
remembered that would be forgotten, if the man only
were thought of. In the subsequent beetles Isabella pro-
motes her schemes by forcing a ring (the Duke's gilt)
from Isidora, anti giving it to Guido as a token of friend-
ship. The Duke espies it on his son's linger, and thinks
the son and the Duchess are playing false with him.
Isabella prevents explanation. The son th termines to
leave the kingdom—but Isabella brings about a secret
meeting between Guido and the Duchess, and then in-
forms die Duke, who surprises the parties together.
They had not sought the interview, and the son had
told the Duke that he would not see Isidore; before his
departure. His jealousy, his fears, are confirmed. He
maddens %sift rage, and vows vengeance. He condemns
his son to be shot—but while this is taking place, the
treachery of had& and the Monk is discovered. 'lnc
letters are found—the conspirators are tracked ; but Isa-
bella still has means to delay the intelligence—and it
only arrives at the crisis which terminates the son's life,
as the firing of the guns followed the exposition of the
plot which had been carrying on to promote the Duke's
and the Son's ruin. The father, overwhelmed with
agony, falls, and the curtain drops.
If we cannot compliment the Author on the tendency
of the main spring of his plot, or on the desirability of
the denouement, btill he may plead, in answer to any
objections on these points, that historical facts have
furnished him with his outlines in the lives of Philip 11.
of Spain, and D'Este, one of the Dukes of Ferrara. No
praise of ours can do justice to the efforts so successfully
made by Mr. Charles Rouble and by Mr. M'Cready, to
carry into effect every wish oldie Author—they each of
them exhibited

" A Genius, which the l'oet left behind,
a:act:lli:l.c it uct Out Mid "
To particularise any one scene, may perhaps be oflering
violence to the opinion of nor readers, where every one
deserted unqualified praise, yet we cannot refrain from
applauding, especially the scene in which Guido is told
of the 1113 rriJi:3: of his lather—his assumption that he
had married the suler of his bethrothed, and the manner
in which lie evaded the explanation, when the dreadful
light began to break upon into, defy description, and
must be stew to be properly estimated.
Al! the other - Verliiratiers exerted themselves very
creditably. and the Piece has been repeated (tinder eon-
sick rabic cunt' I mem) every evening, to o inflow ing anti
delighted audience,.

The address from the exclusively loyal of Yar-
town and its vicinity has been presented to his Ma-
jesty. After having been open for signature for nal
longer than a liirtnight, it obtained nal less than
three hundred and ninety signalures. If the half-pay
officer who hatched this up supp sed that by it
would be represented the LOYALTY of this town,
which contains nearly 20,000 persons, we can assure
him (what we doubt not he has discovered) that he

is much mistaken The poorest radical who petitions
for the dismissal of Ministers is equally as loyal as
he is ; tke one may think the country flourishing,
and the Ministers immaculate—the other asserts
that trade is depressed, and assigns for its cause the
misconduct of Ministers; and we leave the country
to decide whose judgment is correct. We trust this
gentleman will no longer be gratuitously busy, nor
meddle again with such things us loyal addresses,
since he must Lace found that his uuticipatioLs on
this one have so grossly misled Lim.
On Thursday last a publican was fined 40s. by
the sitting Alderman ut Guildhall, for suffering
bagatelle to be played in his house, and informations
have been laid against others on similar charges,
aril fur permitting dominos to Le played.

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