The Sun.
London, England, 1833-10-07 00:00:00

DRURY-LANE THEATRE.

This theatre opened for the season on Saturday night.
During the recess the house has been newly painted, and
~resents now a very light and graceful appearance. Tie
box pannels are coloured a deep pink ; the vestibu'es,
eotouda, and staircase have been beautified ; and the
archestra considerably en'arged. At the rise of the curtain
God save the King" was, as usual, sung by the entire
vocal corps ; after which Miss TAYLOR, led on the stage
by Mr. COOPER, advanced to deliver, what we suppose
was intended to be considered as a propitiatory Address.
On her entrance this young lady appeared so wholly
overpowered by her fears,—so utterly
incapable even
of assuming an erect position,—trembling, supplicating,
and cowering down to the ground, as if she were just
about to become subterranean—that, in common with
the whole audience, we felt the deepest pity for her
situation, But our sensibilities were thrown away.
Indeed we were fairly swindled out of thrtn—we
make this confession with some little feeling of anger—
for no sooner had Mr. COOPER retired, than Miss TAYLOR
(never a more consummate actress than on this occasion)
recovered her wits as if by magic, and recited the Address
with so much archness, tact, and presence of mind, as for-
cibly to impress on us the conviction that superlative
bashfulness is by no means to be added to the list of her
dram ,tic defects. As regards the Address itself, it was
full of smart common-places, the production possibly of
some tenth-rate punster. It met with but an equivocal
reception, but quite as favourable a one as it deserved.
The Tempest was well cast, and magnificently got up.
NIACREADY'S Prospero was a correct, but rather a cold
and formal performance. He seemed out of humour—
possibly at the idea of being compelled to be an accessary
after the fact to the murder of Shakspeare by Dryden.
We scarcely sympathise with him on this occasion. Had
his great dramatic idol been Lurked by a Fitzhall or a
Beaz'ey, or a Planche, the case would bavebeen different ; but
he has been murdered by no less illustrious an assassin than
DRYDEN. Ccesar has been kill-d by Brutus ! He has
been killed " boldly but not wrathfully ;" carved " as a
dish fit for the Gods," not hewn " as a carcase for the
hounds"—which is some consolation, considering how
much worse he might have been used. We are by no
means the eulogist of DRYDEN'S alteration. It is lame
and unworthy of him—still it is not such a flagrant a•ro-
city as to justify Mr. IVACREADY'S very visible fit of the
horrors. DRYDEN has marred the Tempest, nat by
abridgment, but by addition, which of two sins, is
" questionless"—as Lord Brougham would say—the least.
Miss SIIIRREFF sung sweetly in the silly, inte, polated cha-
racter of Dorinda, and Miss INVERARITY made a very me-
lodious Miranda. But she had one besetting defect. She
looked too knowing for the part. By no possiblestretch of the
imagination could we be led to conceive that she had never
seen a man. Her very dress spoilt the delusion. Though
the all but solitary tenant of an enchanted island, she wore
gigot sleeves, and hair curled, twisted and tortured after
the last f ,shion at Alroack's ! But this, perhaps, is hyper-
criticism. Suffice to say, that she sung with singular
skill and sweetness. Little Miss POOLE played the
" tricksy" spirit Ariel, as well as could have been
expected. She gave that impressive dirge, " Full
fathom five," and the delicious little air, " Where
the bee sucks," with a fine etherial delicacy. Some
of her lower tones in the former song struck on
our ear like the low, wild, ghostlike wailinga of an than
harp. DOWTON'S Stephan° was full of chastened
humour. It was, besides, carefully played throughout.
But what is there that this fine old actor does, that
does not satisfy the most fastidious judgment? BLAN.
CHARD, as Trinculo, was quaint and dry; just, in
short, what the character demands. Of BEDFORD'S
Caliban we may say with truth, that it is incomparably
the best the stage has known since the days of EMERY.
The voice was perfect. It spoke the monster in every tcne,
Miss TAYLOR, in Hippolito, showed a most conciliatory
pair of legs. She had little to do but to show them, and
we deem ourselves happy in having been so situated as
to see them to the best advantage. As for the
character, it is a mere nonentity. A mop•stick could
play it quite as successfully, as the best actor or actress
on the stage. We must not omit Mr. COOPER'S Ferdi-
nand. It was careful and judicious, but—so horridly cold
Why will not this intelligent actor get rid of a little of his
intelligence when he plays the part of a suitor, and throw in
some glimmering of fervour ? His passion is too hyperborean,
He makes love, as if he were standing in the cold shivers
on an iceberg, with an icicle at his nose. We must not
close our notice of the Tempest without saying a word or
two about Mr. MACREADY'S delivery of that noble passage,
" The cloud-capped towers." It was magnificently de-
claimed, so much so, that its stately music is still ringing
in our ears. The Tempest was followed by MlLTON'Sillasque
of Conius, as assassinated by CIRBER. It met with a flatter-
ing, even an enthusiastic reception, chiefly, however, by
reason of the noble glees, choruses, &c., in which it abounds,
and which were sung in a style of first-rate excellence.
On the whole, Mr. Bunn may congratulate himself on the
encouraging auspices under which his bold speculation has
commenced. The house was crowded to an overflow
(and this at a season when all London is supposed to be
out of town !) and the most flattering reception given to
each performer as he or she entered on the stage.