The Sun.
London, England, 1832-12-19 00:00:00

DRURY-LANE THEATRE,

The Bold Stroke for a Wife. converted into an opera,
and with the title changed to Win Ber and Wear Her
(one of the best of the alterations by the way) was played
last night. Who would have believed twenty years ago
that Braham would ever have attempted, aye and per-
formed too, Colonel Peignwell? What would John
Kemble have said to any such supposition, when he was
teaching Braham to put a little more toosy-moosy—(See
Loid Byron's Letters)—into the raptures of Count
Belino? The fact is so, and we can assure our readers
that Braham acquitted himself more than creditably, if we
only regard him as an actor ; but admirably, if we recol-
lect that he is moreover, take him for all in all, the finest
singer in the world. He wore his different disguises with
the most comfortable assurance, and never seemed at a
loss, but now and then when his memory failed him in the
dialogue. His Dutchman was reallyperfect, his Egyptian
-xtremely good, his man of fashion tolerable, his old
Steward (though not well dressed) well acted, and his
Quaker highly ludicrous and characteristic. We were
literally astonished at his versatility, and went to the
theatre fearing and expecting a decided failure. He was
called for at the fall of the curtain, and came forward, but
whether he gave out the opera for repetition, and if so,
for what we cannot say, amid the confusion, for it is net to
he denied that there was some opposition to the applause.
For the hisses he was not in any way responsible, nor
were they meant for him, hut for the piece, and notwith-
standing the apology appended to the book of songs, there
were many who seemed to object to the species of meta-
morphosis the comedy has undergone. The Bold Stroke
fora Wife is not a piece for which we have ever felt any
high respect, and although amusing from its variety, it is
full of absurd incongruities, and from the first, has only
been supported by the excellence of the successive per-
formers in the hero. The incongruities are not lessened
by the author of the songs, &c., inserted ; for while the
dialogue and the dresses are (according to traditional stage
usage) at least a hundred years old, the singers of the new
music tell us of the discoveries of Bruce and Captain Cook,
and of the modern inventions of steam-boats and rail-
roads. Nothing can be more preposterous than the Stock
Exchange scene, which is represented in a drawing.
room, and where the bulls and bears make their bargains
in crotchets and quavers ; only think of the task Mr
Barnett has had to set to music such materials as the fo'
lowing :

" Consols at seven-eighths—who'll buy P
Ten thousand three per cents, for the account
Who'll sell ? That will I, and 1, and I, and I ;
Tell me, tell me, the amount.
Here's new fours. They are bores,
Here's the Dutch loan. That, Sir, is blown."
Some of the songs are sufficiently good as vehicles of
sound, but they have no pretensions to originality ; and
we only wish our modern writers of verses would cast
their eyes upon such models as Barry Cornwall's songs,
which are full of heart and natural feeling, adapted to the
situation of the personersupposed to sing them. The first
specimen in Win Her and Wear Her, is perhaps the best,
or as good as any, and therefore we quote it: it is a duet
between Feienwell and his friend Freeman :
"Free. Oh : talk not of Love, 'tis but madness, my friend,
A fever that heart, brain, and spirits will wear,
That sprinkles life's path, Sir, with thorns without end :
Its birth is in pain—and its child is despair.
Then to Friendship we'll drink, with its joys and its
calm :

To each sorrow of life, 'tis the sovereign balm.
Feign. 0 Love! thy sweet power my heart must confess,
To colour life's scenes with its tinting so bright ;
With its power to pain, is the power to bless,
It still may be madness—but still 'tis delight.
Then to Love I will drink, with its joy and its charm;
To each sorrow of life, 'tis the sovereign balm."
Here we see love described, in the first verse, as a mad-
ness and a fever that sprinkles thorns, and has a child the
moment it is born ; in the second verse it turns scene-
painter. As to the wording, we decidedly object to such
Cockney rhymes as " charm" and " balm," which only
sound alike because they are vulgarly mispronounced.
This may look like hyper-criticism, but we wish to see
the evil corrected ; and we know that Mr. Beazley, the
author of the songs (if be will but give himself time), can
write as well as most people. Talking of hyper-criticism
reminds us of a little hyper-squeamishness on the part of
the audience. They hissed Dowton for delivering what
we believe is in his part. He leaves the supposed Simon
Pure and Anne Lovely together, in order that they may
make love, and returns hearing the latter scream : Oba-
diah observes, that " he feared the flesh bad got the
better of the spirit ;" on which the disapprobation broke
forth, we presume, from those who (to translate a phrase
of Moliere) have " more chastity in their ears than in all
the rest of their bodies put together." They might just
as reasonably have hissed Miss Betts for being obliged to
say just afterwards, " I greatly fear the flesh and the
wickedness thereof." We are far from wishing to advo-
cate indecency, especially if it come in the hypocritical
disguise of a double entendre, but to possess too great nice-
ness, would be to banish all humour from the stage.
Why did not the audience hiss Bedford when he talked of
the microscopic examination of a young lady from head to
foot ? This is merely coarse, and for this, and much more,
in the original play, the authoress is responsible. Dowton
played extremely well, and, of course, Farren did not fail
one jot in Perriwinkle : be was perfect even to the turn-
ing up of his Tradescantan doublet. The music on the
whole is not remarkable for originality, and some of it is
decidedly common and unworthy of the composer. We
allude particularly to the song by Miss Betts, beginning
" Oh, what a wayward fate is mine." Braham sung re-
markably well, especially a burlesque song, exposing and
explaining his curiosities, which reminded us of the
mock-relics in Chaucer's tale, or of the impossible won-
ders of the old play, where a profane pardorer produces
the great toe of the Trinity, and the jaw-bone of A
Saints.