The Sun.
London, England, 1850-02-19 00:00:00

SURREY THEATRE.

Under the existing management the Surrey
Theatre has become famous for the merit and number
of its original productions. A master-spirit presides
over its destinies, and its spacious stage is no longer
made the vehicle for distempered melodramatic ro•
mantes or mountebank buffooneries. Ne, it is de-
voted to a nobler purpose now ; it is a school cf
morals where virtue and truth are enforced, through
the agency of dramatic entertainments, that are as re-
markable for the beauty and purity of their diction as
the accuracy of the living scenes and worldly pas-
sions which they pourtray. Some of our best dramatic
authors are enlisted under the banner of the classical
and accomplished manager, and the patrons of the
theatre are promised a long series of carefully written
productions that would reflect no discredit upon
houses of fur greater pretensions. Last night one of
them was given to the world in the shape of a five
.act play, called Old Love and New Fortune, a
title which has but very slight relation to
the incidents of the piece. The principal
character, if not the hero, is Sir Archibald Harcourt,
in early youth the accepted suitor of a lady whom he
loved to distraction, but his fstber dying suddenly,
leaving him the inheritor of nothing but a name and
a waste manor-house, his mistress forsakes him for
another, and in a moment of frenzy he barters his
hand for the daughter of a moneylending goldsmith.
He is afterwards cheated of her dowry, and at the
age of twenty-three, finding himself a beggared
widower, the father of two infant children, a hoy and
girl, he determined to seek a renewal of his shat-
tered fortunes in some tropical climate ; and with
a view,
" Through good and ill report—through shade and shine,
Though they were starving—or of pestilence
nottiag in gaol—or on the gallows-tree,"
to avenge the heartless falsehood of his first and only
love on " her children and her children's children,"
he quits the shores of his native land, and leaves the
manor-house and his children in the care of
an old steward. Twenty years have elapsed,
and the drama opens with his return
in the character of an Indian nabob accompanied by
an. orphan beauty bearing the appropriate name of
" Eve," whom he had adopted as his daughter, and
whose mother had saved his life when pestilence had
brought him low at the cost of her own.
" He comes back rich—restores his ancient ball
To it old splendour; for his children sends,
To make Oem share his joy."
In his children he recognises a sombre scholar and a poet,
and a gay, fine handsome woman of the world. Albert,
the son, discovers that Margaret, the maiden to whom
he is bethrothed, is no other than the surviving child
of the lady, who in days gone by deceived his father,

I but, like a true poet, he prefers being an alien to his
' father's heart and a disinherited outcast, to giving up
his love dream, and actuated by a friend he marries
Margaret, flies to London, and becomes the clerk of
one Gripeall, a scrivener. On the other hand, Cybil
his sister, while a neglected school-girl, ignorant
of her destiny, is enamoured of La Roque,
a ruined spendthrift, whose life is an enigma, and
whose parentage is a mystery, but with the improve-
ment in her fortunes comes a change in her feelings
for her former lover. Viewing her former love as
" An empty folly,
A dream—a fantasy—a schoolboy fame,"
she bids La Roque not to meet her more, or to meet
her only as a stranger. his passion, however, is not
so easily cooled, nor is he quite satisfied of her sin-
cerity ind ismissing him, and he determines still to
pursue his suit by strategy and disguises. Mean-
while a new character conies upon the scene in Lord
Overbury, and La Roque gets introduced to Sir
Archibald Harcourt as the friend of that nobleman,
who, having
taken a fancy to him, refreshes his thread-
bare coat, and makes hiin his half buffoon,
half society. To test the sincerity of Sybil
he makes love to Eve, and her pride thus
attacked, and her jealously aroused, she in
her turn, for the sake of revenge, falls in with her
father's plans, and consents to play the part of Lord
Overbury's fiancee. This succeeds in arousing the
jealousy of La Roque, and he hastens to the metro-
polis to seek counsel of her brother. Here he learns
that Gripeall has suddenly" shuffled off this mortal coil,"
and while assisting, albeit, to arrange the deceased
lawyer's papers, 'he chances. to fall upon a document
which clears up the mystery of his birth, and proves
him to be the victim of Lord Overbury, his uncle,
who has usurped his title and fortune. Armed with
this treasure, he hurries bank to the seat of Sir
Archibald, and making the discovery known to Lord
Overbury, he bargains with him to conceal the fraud
fora time if his Lordship will consent to follow his
directions in dealing with Sybil. He gets Lord
Overbury and Sybil to sign a marriage contract,
which the latter does at a moment when
her jealousy is at its height, and then,
to keep up the deception, he demands the hand of
Eve of Sir Archibald. The solicitation is scornfully
refused, and La Roque is ordered to quit the mansion
as a base-born child of passion and of shame,"
which lead to a challenge and a meeting. La Roque
is wounded in the contest, and it is told to Sybil that
his wounds have resulted in death. Too late Sybil dis-
covered that she has sacrificed her happiness to pride,
and, repenting of the past, she wreaks her vengeance
upon Eve, who has been made the innocent tool of
La Roque ; and then, finding that La Roque never
loved Eve, she resolves to abandon Lord Overbury
and seek solace in seclusion. Bereft of his children,
Sir Archibald turns to Eve for consolation, and says
to her—

"Listen, Eve, •
I 1 ave sworn an oath to wed no other wife,
But can'st thou love me? Wilt thou stay beside me,
Though they flout thee as a heartless
By a rich dotard bought?"
Leaving her to consider this strange offer, she reflects
thus—

" llis vow to we 3 no more—his emphasis
On worldly scorns, that I might brave for him;
The quick, bewildered rapture of his speech;
His strange embrace,—his sudden breaking-off,—
Like ono who leaves his purpose to be guessed;—
Admit no doubt; or, if doubt be, so small,
I might as wisely nurse it, as untwine
One shred of gossamer to chain the streams
When Winter brings down ruin from the hills
0, and is this your world ! your ancient name,
Your honour, your protection?—Fare thee well,
Realm of enchantment and of agony,
I have tarried here too long.—But I have limbs
To fly withal—a heart to bear me up!"
Accordingly, she flies to the metropolis, and finds
shelter beneath Albert's roof, whither also Sir Archi-
bald follows, in answer to a communication sum-
moning
him to the death-bed of his son. He arrives
in time to learn that La Roque, whose dissolution is a
fiction, and Sybil, his daughter, are reconciled. La
Roque throws off all disguise, and disclosing himself
to be the real Lord Overbury, he preserves the honour
of his name by allowing his uncle to escape to a fo-
reign land. Having previously, however, met with
Eve, and become informed of the ambiguous nature
of her guardian's proposal, he taxes Sir Archibald of
his villany, when it happily transpires that Eve has
misinterpreted his meaning. He wanted her not to
give up the world at the expense of virtue, but to
shut her ears to its taunts when she became the wife
of a man so much her senior; and Eve, who really
loves her guardian, at once accepts his hand and
heart. There remains now only two actors in the
drama to be disposed of, namely, Albert and Mar-
garet. La Roque, interceding with Sir Archibald in
her behalf, urges him to forgive them, but there his
vow stands in the way. How is he to get rid of this
without forswearing himself? La Roque urges—

" There is still
A voice more deep than reason or than prayer!
The heart's own voice, that speaks in starry night,
In the pearled morning, in the haze of noon,
Whenever man is holiest in the hand

01 man's Creator—whispering in his ear
There are no wrongs forgiveness cannot reach,
There are no vows of vengeance past recal
If you have heard this voice, obey it now 1"
This reasoning overcomes Sir Archibald's scruples of
conscience, and the play terminates with a reconcilia-
tion between the father and son. Such is a brief
outline of the main incidents of the drama. It is
smoothly and here and there elegantly written, but the
dialogue is decidedly too long; occasionally it is fanciful
and passionate, but its success depends more upon the
plot and the acting than upon the poetry. It was
gracefully cast and well sustained throughout.
Madam Ponisi threw much feeling into the part of
Sybil, while Miss R. Malcolm, as the innocent,
gentle, unsophisticated Eve, was eloquently touching,
reading the language of her author with exquisite
taste and pathos. Mr. Mead gave a highly finished
portraiture of Sir Archibald Harcourt, and was ably
seconded by Mr. Creswick, as the impassioned and
reckless La Roque. Albert, the son, Lord Overbury,
and Jeremy, the Steward, found admirable represen-
tatives in Messrs. Raymond, Collier, and Fitzroy.
Nor must we omit mentioning the little part of
Margaret, played by Miss Laporte with much skill
and ability. The author, in the preface to the play,
warmly acknowledges the good offices hehas met with
at the hands of all who have assisted in producing
his work, and, certainly, they well merited it, for
nothing could surpass the exertions of the actors to
secure its success, nor could it have been placed upon
the stage with more care or elaboration. The
scenery and dresses were truly splendid, realising
the princely magnificence of an English nobleman's
estate of the period of good Queen Bess. It was
enthusiastically applauded from beginning to end,
and, at the close, the author, Mr. H. F. Chorley, we
believe the musical critic of the Athenceum, looked and
bowed his gratitude from a private box, while Mr.
Creswick, who seemed no less delighted at the
triumph of the clever aspirant for dramatic fame,
announced the play for repetition until further notice
amidst a renewed burst of applause.