The Sun.
London, England, 1857-02-17 00:00:00

LYCEUM.

A triumphant success signalised the first performance
at this theatre, last evening, of Mr. Westland Marston's
new five-act play, entitled " A Life's Ransom." A
success at once dramatic, histrionic, and managerial.
Nothing could possibly have gone off better altogether.
The house was literally crowded throughout—pit,
boxes, and gallery. The audience—evidently, for the
most part, the pick of the playgoers of London—were
as attentive as they were enthusiastic and discriminat-
ing. Nothing whatever flagged. Tile performers, one
and all, were well up in their parts. And—strange to
tell, strangest of all to tell in regard to a new play—the
piece itself appeared to our watchful observation no-
where at all to require the least degree of pruning. We
are not simply writing all this in sheer good humour—
we are penning each syllable bluntly, in soberest truth
and justice. Drawing not upon our imagination for
our facts, though we are compelled, it so happens, un-
fortunately, to draw upon our memory for our argument.
Had the printed copy of Mr. Marston's very charming
and effective drama reached us betimes this morning, we
should have selected from it with.peculiar satisfaction to
ourselves, and, we doubt not for one moment, to our
readers signal gratification also, passages which
must have justified to the full every word of
commendation, besides attesting, in a remarkable
manner, the ripened powers of one of the most accom-
plished dramatists of the day. A worthy contemporary
of Bulwer Lytton and of Sheridan Knowles, Westland
Marston had already proved himself to be,by the produc-
tion (among other elegantand scholarly dramas) of "Anne
Blake" and the "Patrician's Daughter." His new play
produced last evening at Mr. Dillon's Theatre with
almost unexampled success—a success almost unex-
ampled, we mean, in unanimity and completeness—
cannot but tend very materially to elevate and strengthen
its author's already high and solid reputation. Sym-
metrical in construction, diversified in character, replete
with pathetic incidents and dramatic situations, "
Life's Ransom" is written throughout with true poetic
feeling, and with all a master's evidence of the skill, the
art, the grace, the verve, the finesse requisite in the con-
stitution of the genuine playwright. And such Mr,

Marston unmistakeably is.
The period of "A Life's Drama" is immediately at the
close of the reign of James the Second. The scene—the
southern coast of England. The principal characters,
five in number, may be readily enough indicated. The
plot, in which the fortunes of the dramatis persona be-
come entangled and intertwined, although simple to the
ast degree when told, has about it, while in course of
being evolved in word and action upon the stage, an
appearance of intricate and at times almost bewildering
elaboration. Situated somewhere in the neighbourhood
of Torbay, are the old ancestral estates of Basil, Lord
levadals (Mr. Charles Dillon), a noble of ancient lineage,
but one who is deplorably impoverished. The property of
the family having fallen into irretrievable dilapidation dur-
ing the Civil Wars, by reason of the exertions made on be-
half of Charles the First by Basil's father, an ardent
Royalist. So utterly decayed, in truth, that the young
lord, on succeeding to the title finds that ruin to him seems
to be the only result of the Restoration. The embarrass.
ments of the house increasing only with the lapse of time
during the reigns of the two last of the Stuarts—Charles
the Second and James the Second. Added to the misery
of hie pecuniary involvements, Lord Revesdale has in-
curred the hatred of the evil genius of the drama Ban-
croft (Mr. Stuart), a country magistrate. Besides which
the ruined peer is grievously troubled by his sister
Felicia (Mrs. Charles Dillon) rejecting the offer for her
hand preferred by Lord Norrice the Prime Minister,
through whose instrumentality, in all likelihood, the
fortunes of the family might have been restored—his
influence being paramount at Court, and the King's
readiness to redeem the estates of Revesdale being a
matter of absolute certainty in the event of the
Premier's intervention. Not merely, however,
is Lord Norrice rejected as a suitor by Felicia
—but he is rejected (to her brother's mingled shame
and indignation) in favour of the opposing suit of
Arthur Ringwood (Mr. M'Lien), the son of Matt/teas
Ringwood (Mr. Barrett), a wealthy brewer and country
gentleman. The ruined patrician haughtily rejects the
notion of any such plebeian alliance—his sister remaining
true, however, in spite of all this, to the loved and lov •
ing Commoner. Leaving Revesdale for a while in dud-
geon, Basil hears afterwards, through Bancroft (who has
followed him for the purpose of conveying to him the
agreeable information)—that his estates have been sold
during his absence—that old Ringwood has been the
purchaser—that young Ringwood is more than ever in
favour with his lordship's sister, Felicia—that all kinds of
villanous rumours are afloat in regard to the two latter,
hinting that Cupid has tripped up Hymen plodding to the
Altar ! Infuriated by these insinuations, Basil (who, in
an earlier part of the story, has saved Arthur's life, by
sheltering him at Revesdale, when the young man had
become inadvertently involved in Monmouth's miserable
failure of a Rebellion)—denounces the ingratitude of the
friend who is indebted to him for his existence, and, in
a paroxsym of indignation, lets Bancroft into the
secret of Arthur's traitorous participation in the insur-
rection. Bancroft, whose evil heart cherishes a deadly
hatred against the young Ringwood, immediately pro-
poses his betrayal to Lord Revesdale. Instead, however,
of finding his suggestion is received with favour, he finds
himself spurned with all the scorn of the noble heart of
the patrician, and flung aside with withering disdain as a
" Bloodhound." Inflamed with rage Bancroft hisses
through his teeth a vow of vengeance. Revesdale is
dismayed—repents the hot words by which his own friend
and his sister's love has been betrayed inadvertently—
hastens back to what was once his home to urge Arthur
to escape from danger by instant flight. Scarcely, how-
ever, has he learned the falsity of the hideous rumours
about Felicia by finding that she has been actually mar-
ried to young Ringwood, scarcely has he had time to im-
plore the bridegroom to escape from certain death by
his immediate departure—when Bancroft arrives with
his myrmidons. Ringwood is arrested. Felicia declares
her resolution to share his captivity. Basil is announced
to be the Accuser. It is the close of the fourth act—
and Lord Revesdale, stricken to the heart by his own
apparent turpitude falls, with a cry of anguish, insen-
sible upon the stage as the curtain descends. The fifth
act reveals the deep and passionate significance of the
LIFE'S RANSOM—Lord Revesdale sacrificing himself to
redeem those his words of fury have unintentionally
betrayed. Bancroft consents to connive at the escape of
Arthur and Felicia on condition that Basil reveals to
him (after they have actually left the shores of England)
the name of some "one" of the daring conspirators against
King James, who have actually signed the requisition
to the Prince of Orange. This Basil does, as we have
said, by heroically denouncing his own name in defiance
alike of death and torture saving Arthur and
Felicia by giving his life as their Life's Ransom !
The villanous Bancroft, however —as all villains
do invariably, both on and off the stage—exam in having
outwitted his antagonists by intercepting the fugitives a
little way out in the channel and so securiog them "all" in
his gr;rn clutches. Everything appears to have gone
wrong with the hero and heroine of the piece. It is the
close of the last act. There are heard behind the scenes
the cheers and the tramping footsteps as of the approach-
ing army of James—the roll of drums and the boom of
the cannon. The fugitives do return in point of
fact, and Bancroft is in the midst of his exul-
tation when—lo ! the situation is instantly reversed,
from one of defeat to one of triumph. Ringwood and
his bride have been intercepted and brought back, not
by the Royalist emissaries, but by the fleet bringing the
Prince of Orange and his troops over to England. As
Mr. Macaulay writes as the first sentence of the first page
of the third volume of his history—" The revolution was
accomplished." The scene opens at the back—discover.
ing to view an exquisite panorama of Torbay, with the
Dutch vessels gliding in and dropping anchor—and on
the left, upon the conspicuous elevation of the landing
place, surrounded by his courtiers, and soldiers, and
attendants—William The spectacle, as a tableau,
is eminently picturesque, and was greeted accordingly by
the audience last evening eith unaffected delight
and admiration. Nothing further in regard to the
plot of the drama remains to be related. It is to us now as
a tale that is told. An exquisite tale, told exquisitely.
The curtain which had fallen upon each preceding act
with loud applause, fell upon the last amidst very gene-
ral and unmistakeable enthusiasm. The twoprincipal
performers were summoned before the footlights, and
duly welcomed—Mr. Charles Dillon having again won
for himself new histrionic glory, by his noble and affect-
ing impersonation of Lord Revesdale. Lastly, but
not "least" among the incidents of the night—the
Author being loudly called for, bowed from one of the
private boxes in acknowledgment of the very cordial
acclamations which greeted his appearance.