The Sun.
London, England, 1848-11-13 00:00:00

HAYMARKET THEATRE.

Shakspere's comely of Twelfth Night, the most
delightful comedy that perhaps even Shakspere ever
wrote, was revived here on Saturday evening in a
manner worthy of Shakspere. Mrs. Charles Kean
was of course the Viola. She is by far the best Viola
on the stage, and Viola is her greatest comedy cha-
racter. From the day that she first appeared in this
character she made it her own ; never, before or
since, have we seen this beautiful conception of Shak- '
spere so perfectly, so admirably embodied. To de-
lineate the Viola of Shakspere requires an aggregation
of qualities such as seldom are to be found united in
one person. Your Viola must be pretty, your Viola
must be arch, your Viola must be pathetic, above all your
Viola must be lady-like. She must also be a perfectly
accomplished artiste, capable not only of perceiving,
bnt embodying, so as to make them perceptible to
others the various delicate nuances of feeling of which
this delightful character is composed. In no lady on
the stage do all these requisites so completely meet
as in Mrs. Charles Kean, and, accordingly, on Satur-
day night, she gave us one of the most perfect and
delightful representations of Viola that ever was wit-
nessed. Heretofore she had been accustomed to dress
Viola in the usual page's dress, but on Saturday she
appeared in the costume of a Greek boy—a costume
not only more picturesque, but more appropriate,
seeing that the scene of the comedy is laid
in Illyria. Her delivery of the celebrated line
" she never told her love" was exquisitely beautiful,
and it was evident, throughout the play, that Mrs.
Charles Kean kept this description in view, and made
it the key-note as it were of the character. Her
acting throughout was the embodiment of untold
love. The scenes with Olivia were delightfully ren-
dered, and the celebrated " I am the man!" was given
with such a keen relish:of the ludicrous. which the
situation suggests, that it drew down repeated rounds
of applause. The comedy was very strongly cast;
Webster was the Malvolio, and admirably he acted
the part—he threw into it a deegree of burlesque
gravity that was quite Listonian. The letter-reading
scene was superb, and the cross gartering and the
lecturing Sir Toby and the condescension to Olivia
were all rich—rich exceedingly. Since the days
of Liston we have had no such Malvolio.
Sir Toby Belch found an admirable representative in
Tilbury. Keeley, as the Sir Andrew Aguecheek,
was perfection. His Sir Andrew is superior even to
his Verges, and that is saying everything. Wigan as
the Clown gave a perfectly new reading of the part,
and a reading which is, in our opinion, the correct
one. He makes the Clown a Figaro, a fellow of in-
finite wit, who perfectly understands what he is
about, enjoys in every sense of the word his pri-
vileges, and who himself keenly relishes the fun
and mischief of which he is the author. The Olivia
of Miss Reynolds was exceedingly tasteful. This
young lady is fit for better things than burlesques;
she can act high comedy, which is more than can
be said of many artistes who hold a nominally higher
professional rank than Miss Reynolds. After the
comedy we had the beautiful drama of the Ransom,
in which Mrs. Charles Kean resumed her old cha-
racter of Pauline, which she rendered with all the
heartrending pathos which she knows so well how to
infuse into her representation of the woes of domestic
life, and which never hell to win her a plentiful tri-
bute of tears and of applause from her audience. She
was called for at the conclusion of each of the pieces.
The theatre was well and most fashionably attended.

(From the Times.)
Some years ago Miss Ellen Tree, after a long absence
in America, re-appeared at the Haymarket, as Viola,
in Shakapere's Twelfth Night, and as Pauline in the do-
mestic drama of Vie Ransom. Among the theatrical
habitués, to whom debilts, farewells, and appearances form
the important incidents of a year, the reminiscence of
that evening WAS awakened on Saturday by the pub-
lication of a similar programme. The same lady, now
Mrs. Charles Kean, was again on the same stage, as
the same Viola and Pauline, and a genial tone of
recognition was diffused over the audience. In the
past week she acted two of her favourite parts, but
some how or other this perfermance of Saturday
seemed to be the veritable re-appearance. Let us not
omit the important circumstances, that the house was
decidedly the best of the season—a redly good house.
In costume the character of Viola has greatly changed
since Mrs. Charles Kean performed it at the Haymarket.
Then there was the page's dress, with blue and silver
tunic, white tights, and hat and feather, voted the repre-
sentatives of pages in general, without reference to
epoch or country. Now, thanks to a reformation by
Madame Vestris (during the Covent-garden manage-
ment, when Miss E. Tree also played the character),
Viola appears in the costume of a Greek, which is re-
markably picturesque, and indicates the nominal scene
of the play. But though the dress is changed, the Viola
is the same Viola that charmed her audience in former
times. With the exception of the one speech, "She
never toll her love," and the practical drollery of the
duel, Viola is not a character that affords salient op-
portunities to everybody. An indifferent actress might
easily let all the peculiarities of the part slip through her
fingers. Its beauties lie beyond the reach of convention,
and are too subtle for cold precept to point out. The
love which fed on the " damask cheek" of Viola was
never told," and can only be understood and interpreted
by an actress who has a profound sympathy with this
most delicate creation of the great poet. This untold
love is exhibited by Mrs. Charles Kean with the most
exquisite truthfulness. Having no words by which
she may •ven hint her passion to the object of her
adoration, there is an eloquence in her pensive eyes, a
deep devotion in her looks, which completely supply the
place of language. The few lines about "patience on
a monument" are always effective, however uttered, on
account of their recognized beauty, and applause at these
indicates nothing; but it was worth while to observe
the fine distinction which Mrs. Kean gave to the
lines immediately sncceeding, and beginning " We men
may say more," and to note how the gentle grief of the
narrator was modified into the tenderest reproachfulness
at the concluding sentiment. The interviews with Olivia
were marked by a graceful courteousness, which rose
into a fine enthusiasm as the disguised maiden pleaded
the cause of her lover. The favourite exclamation, " I
am the man 1" was uttered with that burst of comic tri
umph with which Mrs. Kean has always distinguished it,
and drew its accustomed round of applause. The play
altogether was remarkably well acted; some of the cha-
racters could not have been played better. We would
especially mention (after Mrs. Kean) the Sir Andrew of
Mr. Keeley, whose representation of a melancholy con-
dition arising from the joint effects of imbecility and
drunkenness, was as perfect as it was original. Nothing
could bo more comical than the thick crust of dismal-
ness through which the scintillations of joviality burst
forth. Mr. Webster's Malvolio was a creditable per-
formance after the known fashion. The Clown of Mr.

Wigan, on the other hand, was so completely a depar
turn from the received manner, that it will doubtless
expose him to some animadversion. This singular
character is usually acted with a hard quaint-
ness, the " pleasant fooling" being uttered in a
sort of mock oracular tone, with little or no sense
of mirth; Mr. Wigan, who always thinks for himself,
infuses a spirit of hilarity into his words and gestures
as if the clown were rejoicing in his own pleasan-
tries, and thus the character gains a buoyancy and
activity heretofore unknown. To those who would say
that the interpretation, though amusing, is false, we
would simply remark that the clown seems to us an
open character, in which great license of filling up is
allowed to the actor. If Mr. Wigan has made a mistake
it is the mistake of a clever and thinking man, and does
him more credit than mere traditional correctness. Mr.
Tilbury, as Sir Toby, played with SR unction and a
hearty bluffness which shows an immense advance from
the useful " old men" of two or three years ago. Pro-
bably there is no one on the stage who could have done
it better. The Olivia of Miss Reynolds puts this young
actress in a new position. 'The great spirit with which
she has acted in the holiday burlesques of this house
might lead to an impression that she would be less
in her element in the more poetic drama, but her Olivia
was a very well-considered and ladylike performance.
Mrs. Humby's Maria was one of those little " bits" of
point in which she has no equal. The Ransom, which
followed Twefth Sight, is well known from the intense
feeling with which Mrs. Kean perform a character of
domestic life placed in the most harrowing situations.
Her acting is admirable, but the drama is of kind some-
what passé, and is too much lengthened out. However,
it is a great treat for an audience to see in one evening
so accomplished an actress in two characters so widely
different from each other, and to observe how equally
she is at home in the most poetic melancholy and the
most prosaicdistress. The call for her at the conclusion
of .
it went
was. rapist enthusiastic, and as for Twefth
Night, went off with a heartiness as if all the jokes
were new, and written expressly for the present day.
(From the Post.)
THE ENGLISH DRAMA. : TWELFTH NIGHT.
This theatre, so admirably adapted to all the just
exigencies of the highest class of drama, is making un-
remitting efforts, by appealing not merely to the tastes
of the pleasure-seekers, but to those who, endued with
reflective powers, unite with a true love:and relish for the
poetical drama, a patriotic predilection for the sterling
products of true English growth. At one moment we
see Mr. Webster striving to evoke from their lethargy
the slumbering powers of modern dramatic compositions
—at others we behold; revivals, like that of Saturday
night, of some neglected work of our unrivalled poets.
Such efforts make a demand on our better and higher
feelings, which may only be repudiated with shame, and
which involve very serious considerations.
In a perfect comedy, as in a perfect picture, there
must be a central predominating figure, and accordingly
in Twelfth Night the various characters are skilfully
grouped around Viola. The difficulty and desideratum
in our time was to find a fitting representative for the
embodiment of this the most fascinating of Shakspere s
female portraitures, and in Mrs. Charles Kean the diffi-
culty was vanquished and the desideratum accomplished.
There is not one single element, however delicate or
semi-concealed, no one phase of gentle mirth or pas-
sionate emotion, with which the character of Viola is
instinct, bat is poetically and truthfully rendered by
Mrs. Charles Koan. The entire conception and develop-
ment are " beautiful exceedingly." The recital of the
verse is full of deep melody, and gushes forth—
"So great, so small, yet in so sweet a note,
It seem'd the music melted in the throat."
It is throughout the happiestShaksperian exposition we
have ever witnessed. Tho tenderness permeates
through the entire character—the true womanhood, the
gentleness, the arch spirit, and the perfect faith that the
sudden love will be finally returned, because pure and
holy, is made evident throughout, and forms the very
nucleus of the conception. Mentally and physically the