The Sun.
London, England, 1833-04-13 00:00:00

LITERATWRE.

THE PARRICIDE. A PLAY. LONDON, 1833.
Thank Heaven, we have at length got a play
worthy of our age and country ! After a lapse
of upwards of two centuries, a second Shak-
speare has arisen in the person of a Mr. Wil-
liam King ; and Edmonton—the place whence
this surprising dramatist dates—will henceforth
vie with Stratford in celebrity. The Parricide
is, beyond all question, the most startlingethea-
trical production of the age. Its author, with
the modesty inseparable from true genius, calls it
a " play," but this is a misnomer ; it is, in every
sense of the term, a tragedy ; for it contains
abundant tribulation, some fighting, an abduc-
tion, two deaths, a murder, and a ghost I But
lest these accumulated horrors might prove too
oppressive to our sensibilities, Mr. King has
judiciously relieved them by a few brilliant comic
dialogues between the heroine's lady's-maid and
her sweetheart, the peculiar drollery of which
consists in one calling the other "an ugly
beast."—The opening scene of the Parricide
introduces us to the acquaintance of two bandits
Oswald and Leoff, who are taking a professiona
stroll in the woods by night, near their " sub-
terranean abode." The conversation is coin.
menced by Oswald, who observes that he has
secured a valuable prize for the gang in the
person of Earl Randolph's " hopeful son,"
horn he has persuaded, with some difficulty, to
take to the high-way. Transported with such
auspicious tidings, Leoff makes answer in this
energetic style ;
"By Hell! thy words are music to my ear;
Proceed, how caught you him ?"
a professional rejoinder by which the dramatist
would artfully insinuate that LeofF, to his other
contraband accomplishments, added that of
poacher. Oswald proceeds to gratify his col-
league's curiosity, by detailing the particulars of
this remarkable capture, to the effect that he had
overheard Lord Randolph, a few nights pre-
viously, bewailing the unaccountable coldness of
A pretty, prattling toy,
Blushing Sabina, Walworth's darling child ;"
on which he instantly made up to him, and
" Putting on a gloomy, priestlike look,"
his eyes all the while being " filled with alli-
gator's tears," respectfully begged leave to in-
quire what might he the matter with his Lord-
ship. His Lordship, with singular affability,
replied that he was in love with Sabina, but
that his father, having an indifferent opinion of
his principles, had forbidden the bans, where-
upon the crafty foot-pad impressed on him the
expediency of committing instant parricide :
" In short, I raised his amorous hopes so high,
He hastened home, and with a villain's aim
Plunged deep his dagger in his father's heart,"
and not content with this very indecorous beha-
viour, actually volunteered to serve as Vice or
Sub-Lieutenant in Oswald's band, " which,"
says the brigand, still addressing Leoff—
" Will throw a veil o'er keen suspicion's rye ;
By him protected, we'll defy the frowns
Of partial justice and pale, meagre want.—
The wealthy fool though stained with every crime,
By the vile herd is deemed a demigod,
While the poor wretch who filches, scarcely aught."
It is a deplorable sign of the tunes indeed,
when a pickpocket ranks next to nobody in
public estimation ! But the argument, though
ingenious and gracefully expressed, is scarcely
tenable, for Barrington, if we mistake not, still
occupies a distinguished station in the eyes of
all readers of the Newgate Calendar.—The next
scene places before U 3 Sabina and her father,
Sir William Walworth, the former of whom, ad-
dressing the latter, remarks that she is singularly
dejected, and all in consequence of a dream she
had had the night before. " A dream," says
her aged parent, with a sternness that at once
conveys a lively idea of his character
" A dream ? absurd—however tell it me."
Upon which she commences a somewhat copious
account of her troubles. She dreamed, it
seems, that she was wandering in the woods, while
the moon
On the distant bills meekly threw
Her sympathetic rays of silvery white,"
when suddenly it began to rain, and
" The autumnal leaves (to add to my distress),
Now too began to rustle all around."
While looking about for a place of shelter—
for she had forgotten to bring out her umbrella—
she suddenly saw through a quick-set hedge
her lover
Struggling in the pangs of death
Beneath a sanguine robber's murdering grasp,"
and on investigating matters more closely, she
was horror-struck at perceiving that the " san-
guine robber" was no other than Lord Ran-
dolph. This part of the dream has a visible
effect on the nerves of her venerable parent, for
immediately Sabina has concluded, he observes
with bewitching naivete,
" And yet I cannot say I feel at ease,"
and forthwith advises his daughter to retire into
her boudoir, and sing a song or two, by way of
dispelling her gloom, while he remains behind
to
cogitate.
The third scene indulges us with a fine full-
length of Lord Randolph, who is soliloquizing
in a Gothic apartment as follows :
With what his Walworth to upbraid my name
But with this deed—this worst of parricides,"
(a gentleman endowed with the average no-
tions of morality would have thought " this
deed" quite enough ; but there is no accounting
Feeding
gu
lc;
.h:
ebgyih committed,
ie
dier.
end.pjconscienceciveiled
with
from
on
bringbmriyngg human
s
to
guilt,
tl
light,eight,
Now for tastesF
So that the rabble as they pass atone,
Hint at my father's death, and cry "Tis strange ?"
And no wonder ! Parricide is at all times a
strange experiment.—While Lord Randolph is
thus soliloquizing, Oswald enters, and informs
him that his rival, Sabina's betrothed, is on his
return home from the wars—
" Hall, smacks it so ?"
inquires his lordship ; Oswald assures him on

the honour of a gentleman that such is the
actual fact, and adds that Sabina is to be asked
in church on the following Sunday—a piece of
intelligence which so enrages the peer, that in
the phrenzy of the moment he bursts forth with
the following terse and pointed anathema :

"Id, I'il see the minion damned first !"
and at once closes with Oswald's project of
despatching his rival, who, in return, gratifies his
Lordship by the assurance that he will

" Mince him like meat, leave not a vein unbreathed."
Accordingly the very next night, Randolph,
Oswald, Leofr, mid the rest of the brigands, take
their station in the forest (of course in the midst
of a thunder storm) when the Parricide, while
preparing for action, is most unexpectedly way-
laid by his father's ghost, who sticks to him with
an uncourteous pertinacity that might put a
bailiff to the blush, till finding that shadow ha
but a poor chance against substance, the goblin
discreetly vanishes, and Randolph falls senseless
into Oswald's arms. Now it happens that just
at this crisis, Hubert (Sabina's sweet-heart) and
his attendant, Dunstan, cross the forest on their
way to Walworth Castle, when the following
sprightly dialogue takes place between them :
" DUNSTAN. Aye, f may hallo, 'till my wind-pipe bursts,
Before a soul comes near to give us aid.
Yiw what a pretty pickle we are in !
HUBERT. Was ever man s'unfortunate as 1 ?

DUNSTAN. Yes; that am I, and sore against my will.
HUBERT. Can'st thou not form some notion where

we are?
DUNSTAN. Yes, lost in a wood, and half drowned with
the rain."

We protest we are utterly at a loss to give
adequate expression to our admiration of the
above passage. Its ease, archness, graceful
homeliness, but above all, the euphonious elision
" s'unfortunate," are as irresistible as they are
original. Scarcely is this bright dialogue con-
cluded, when the speakers are attacked by the
bandits, one of whom, however (our old ac-
quaintance Leoff), being smitten with an extem-
pore paroxysm of penitence, instead of despatch-
ing Hubert, gives him a seasonable hint to bolt—
Mr. King, we hope, will pardon the homeliness
of this phrase—which he avails himself of with
an undignified abruptness, more remarkable for
its discretion than its heroism. We next find
Hubert at Walworth Castle, in company with
Sabina, her father, and a snug wedding party,
consisting (in addition to the neighbouring
squirearchy) of Bacchus, Vertumnus, Pan, and
Endymion. How these gentlemen came to be
among the visiters, Mr. King does not conde-
scend to inform us; we can only conjecture,
therefore, that they must have received, like the
rest, a formal card of invitation from Sir Richard,
an, opinion in which we are strengthened, from
the fact that they all came in full-dress. But
to resume. Pan having sung a song, the rob-
bers, headed by Lord Randolph and tailed by
Oswald, suddenly make their appearance, mix
in disguise among the guests, and on a con-
certed signal cry out " Fire, fire." Of course a
general scramble is the consequence of this un-
toward exclamation, in the confusion of which
Randolph makes off with Sabina, having just
previously levelled Hubert with the insulting
remark—
" Down, puling wretch, to hell."

The rest of the gang follow their chief's ex-
ample, while Hubert's attendant, Dunstan, who,
it should seem, was a young man of remarkable
pluck, remained behind, expressing his disgust
and astonishment at Lord Randolph's very
ungentlemanlike proceedings in these eloquent
and emphatic terms :

—" Oh, Could I
But catch the caitiff ; I would make him writhe
Like a skinned eel—
" Cowards, knaves,

A set of dastard hell-hounds, wanting hearts
To back their precious actions; waiting maids
(the comparison of robbers with waiting-
maids is singularly felicitous, and the difference
of sex improves its originality)

"To fly one thus; Oh, by this hand, Pd brain
E'en will the feather of a butterfly,
Such milk-and-water rascals."
" The feather of a butterfly !" What an ap-
propriate implement to knock down a "
milk-
and-water rascal" with ! We can imagine
the execution it must have done in the hands of
such a fierce fellow as Hubert. The plot of the
tragedy now begins to thicken. Poor Sabina,
who has been carried off and locked up in the
cavern, makes a point of going mad, while
Hubert bewails her loss in the " Gothic apart-
ment" at Walworth Castle. Suddenly, how-
ever, he bethinks himself—for love, like poverty,
is fertile in expedients—of letting loose a blood-
hound on the robbers' track—an idea which so
excites the jealousy of Dunstan, that the frisky
wag exclaims—
" Oh, brainless blockhead, idiot, dolt, and ass,
Not to have hit on such a scheme before."
The propriety of these epithets, as applied
by Dunstan to himself, we are far from presum-
ing to question.—Well, no sooner is the blood-
hound let loose, than the pig-headed animal
makes a point of running the wrong way, on
which Hubert's wits are completely at fault,
when behold ! just in the nick of time, Leoff
arrives at Walworth Castle, betrays the secret of
the robber's cave, and conducts Hubert, Dun-
stan, and a select party of retainers, to the spot.
Here they find poor Sabina, with her hair
dishevelled, singing snatches of mad songs
(from which, with exquisite propriety, every
particle of poetry andcommon sense is banished),
asd the whole band of brigands ready prepared
to give them a warm reception. But Provi-
dence, it has been well observed, never deserts
the good ; and it is with infinite satisfaction we
are enabled to assure our readers, that virtue
triumphs anti vice is discomfited ; in other
words, that the robbers are captured (and, we
have every reason to believe, hanged, with the
exception of Leoff, who becomes an honest
member of society), and that Sabina and her
sweetheart are in due time married, and, as a
matter of course, live very happily afterwards.

Such is a slight outline of the Parricide,
which, in point of originality, we will back
layaCwhether before or since the
e. So startling a drama de-
e congenial critic to do it justice ; but
dsearyls
where,s: againstf
in aaSni'y akipe
these days of hopeless common-place,
shall such a phenomenon be found ? Who shall
insist, with the fitting emphasis, on the lively