The Sun.
London, England, 1862-10-14 00:00:00

ROYAL ENGLISH OPERA.

THE BOHEMIAN GIRL.
One of the oldest ballads of Europe, as well as
one of the most popular, is the story of a girl of
noble birth, stolen by gipseys in her infancy, who,
happening to be witness ed by her father as she was
dancing under his windows, at some public festival,
was summoned to his presence in order to amuse his
friends, and then, by some token on her person, was
fortunately recognised. This legend, which was no
doubt a fact at some very early period—like its
heroine, became a wanderer for the public enter-
tainment, and formed one of the stock attractions of
the Jon gleurs and Trouveres who traversed Europe
from fair to castle throughout the middle ages, in

order to open the hearts—and purse-strings of all
classes of society. In England, prosaic Eng-
land, with its rigid realistic tendencies, which
can only approach a romance in any shape in
order to turn it inside out this story

was parodied in the adventure of Edward Wortley
Montague, who, stolen from his mother when a
child by chimney sweeps, was recognised by Lady
Mary, after his exploring of her kitchen flue, on
the occasion of a dinner party. Here the maternal

instinct, dispensing with the promptings of song
and dance, the childlike glitter of Zingaro jewels,
or the buoyant grace of Zingaro gaiety, was able
to pierce through soot and rags to the identification
of its beloved ; or, if roused at all, was by the clat-
ter of his dust shovel on a chimney pot ! It is cer-

tainly somewhat strange, considering the loud
outcry that has been raised on the score of the
dearth of dramatic novelty, that a subject so full of
dramatic interest, and also incident, as the original,
should never have been appropriated by the stage
until within the last twenty years ; and, scarcely
less strange, that its first presentment should have
taken the form of opera. Such was the good for-
tune, however, of Mr. Balfe, that he was permitted
to enjoy its first impression ; and this not
only, but the aid of its conveyance in an emi-
nently skilful manner. He had not only an ex-
cellent subject, but a subject admirably developed.
His dramatist was Mons. St. George, one of the
ablest of his brethren at the time—by whom not
a point of the new material was either overlooked
or weakened:; and the result was,undoubtedly, one of
the happiest, if not the highest, of Mr. Balfe's many
inspirations, despite the drawback of his being
burthened by such a poet as Mr. Bunn. Nothing
but the interest of the subject can explain the extra-
ord
opera,
i nr
music
towy which
aiuccchth,
pt
ehrxoa
ept
cehr
real
bywl
ear sawi as
oebrdl
de
ss tu. oc
hwT rahi
et
se
hpsoouuech buoy
ttrovf
loafutgahhni
laugh-
ter ter in its time, can only be compared to the " non-
sense verses" which were written by Reynolds and
James Smith some five-and forty years ago, and
sung in private by Theodore Hook. Such grotesque
rubbish preserved by music reminds one of the
Egyptian practice of embalming the bones of an
ape in spices.
Achieving the greatest success that had ever been
known on the lyric stage of England—an uninter-
rupted run of considerably above 100 nights, this
opera was faithful to the history of its subject and
its heroine, and became a wanderer all over
Europe for the general entertainment. It has
been played, we believe, with success in every
capital of the continent. Its production last
night, for the first time at Covent-garden,
exhibited all the freshness and animation of r.
first performance. Its vivid and graceful music
was never more cordially received. The clear and
and resonant voice of Mdlie. Parepa told in
every note of the heroine—her spirited delivery
of the "Marble Halls," winning a warm and de-
served encore; whilst she did every justice to the
characteristic air, " Come with the Gipsy Bride ;"
and to her share in the trio of the third act, " Fly
with me through the world "—one of the most ori-
ginal features of the work. Count Arnheim, as a
baritone part, should properly have been assigned
to Mr. Santley ; but it can scarcely be said to have
suffered at the hands of Mr. Weiss. His earnest
and pathetic delivery of the " Heart bow'd down "
well merited its redemand ; and his singing
throughout the opera had a dignity and force
about it which left nothing to be wished.
Mr. Harrison resumed, of course, his ori-
ginal character of the young exile, and
scarcely permitted his hearers to think that nine-
teen years had elapsed since he first rendered it so
popular. The lovely air, " Remember me," was
given with all its old distinctions of tenderness and
sweetness, and won all its old encore, and the
manly declamation of the "Fair Land of Poland"
lost not a whit of its original and appropriate force
and elevation. The Devilshoof of Mr. Collie had
all its usual strength and picturesqueness. The
chorus and the band, thanks to the firm hand of
Mr. Mellon, were well entitled to our accustomed
praises. The house was very full.

CAUGHT AT LAST !—A wonderfully life-like por-
trait
of Mr. W. S. Woorlin in propria persona has
just been published in the form of a carte dent isite, It
is issued from the establishment (122, Keg
of of Bassano, the photographer. It is the very image
of the Proteus himself—not of any one among his
scarcely calculable swarm of impersonations. It is
a art,
Mr. Woodin, in fact, as Mr. Woodin : not as an old
lady, or as a belle of the season. It is not Mr.
Woodin as a Stout Beadle, or as a shrimp of a
charity boy—as an old Fogey, or as a Swell : but it
circumstances, is the .6 counterfeit presentment" of the veritable form
and features that adapt themselves with such plastic
readiness to the every whim and fancy of the great
nature—to
\
;Pula! polyphonist. Bassano's carte de visite of
r , over what we:should imagine must, under ordi-
naryin effect, is nothing less than a triumph of
be a very bewilderment of
4 photographer.