The Sun.
London, England, 1844-04-09 00:00:00

THE SUN, LONDON, TUESDAY EVENING, APRIL 9, 1644

which *i4_b9.prettfiure to bemne a favourite with the
play-going public. We subjoin an opening address,
written by Mr. George 11 Beckett, and which Mrs. Keeley
delivered with great grace and nairete :
" When a new minister assumes the reins,
His policy 'tis right that he explains:
I, having taken office, don't refuse
To make the house acquainted with my views.
Some may conceive I owe an explanation
For having headed the administration :
Upon that point a motion I will make,
The opinion of the house at once to take,
That ladies can't good managers be reckoned.
Is that -a motion any one will second—(Cheers)?
I thank the house for its polite decision,
The motion is thrown out without division.
To look on idly ne'er could be my choice,
A woman always likes to have a voice ;
Silent indifference could never suit her,
The grammar tells us woman can't be neuter.
'Tis true, I might have filled an humble station
In our theatrical administration;
But female influence soon gains the ascendant—
When it begins, no one can see the end on't.
Instead of coming to it by degrees
I thought at once the Premiership I'd seize.
To keep the place I very much incline,
Unless this house calls on MC to resign.
Now for the measures I shall introduce
I mean to do away with one abupe.
The scheme on innovation somewhat borders,
But I propose to drop the standing orders.
My policy may probably be hinted
In a short bill I've ordered to be printed ;
That bill I see already in your hands—
I trust that you will pass it as it stands.
'Tis not the least remarkable of facts,
That if you pass that bill, you pass five acts ;
If Parliament as fast could use its powers,
It would'nt be complaining of late hours.
My views with brevity I now will state,
Upon the principle legitimate ;
The drama call'd legitimate may thrive
As well in two or three acts as in five.
Were length legitimacy's standard—then
What would become &all the little men ?
Heirs to a throne. if short, would lose a crown
Which must be given up—not handed down. "
Man, by his mind, not by the height we rate ;
Talent, not length, makes plays legitimate.
But here am I don't practice what I teach,
Making a long, and perhaps an empty speech ;
*So, I'll be brief in coming to a close—
We've several measures ready to propose ;
But if you deem them wrong they shall be stopp'd—
Amendments we are anxious to adopt.
The confidence I feel there's one thing clenches,
As yet I see no opposition benches.
Before I bring my statement to an end
One thing most earnestly I recommend—
Throw out our bills, object, or criticise—
But never think of stopping the supplies."

tion, if net oi‘. 'a crowded, certainly ora deligfited 'au-
dience, may be fairly taken as evidence of the merit: of
the lieces themselves. The first is of a mixed melo-
dramatic and comic character, and is from, the pen of
Mr. S. Coyrie, a gentlemen already favourably known in
the theatrical world. The drama is called The Signal,
and its chief plot turns upon the historical incident of
the rising of the Tyrol in resistance to the tyrannic rule
of Bavaria. The machinery of this political struggle is
found in the domestic incidents of one Rezenvelt (Mr.
Laws), the widower of a murdered wife, and the father
of an only child, of course, a daughter, and the offspring
of his buried love. Stung by his own and his country's
wrongs, Rezenvelt becomes. the leader of the Tyrolese
confederacy, and has for his bosom confidant an
Italian, named Michael
.Bernard (Norman). who is
deeply enamoured of Dorothea, Rezenveles daughter,
whose hand he hopes to gain. Bernard has
neither personal nor patriotic sympathy in the
Tyrolean conspiracy, but has joined in it solely
with the hope of being united to Dorothea., in reward for
his services. As the plot thickens, and the time for- the
rising approaches, Recenvelt draws his dagger, and, in
presence of his Italian confederate, swears solemnly
never again to sheath it till his own and his country's
wrongs are redressed. At sight of the dagger the
Italian wildly asks where it was obtained by R6zenvelt,
arid, in his confusion, acknowledges that he lost it twenty
years before on that very spot. Rezenvelt declares that
the dagger then in his hand had been drawn by him from
his wife's murdered body at the period alluded to, when,
having refused the unmanly overtures of a marauding
soldier of fortune, he had plunged it, in disappointed
passion and revenge, into his victim's bosom. The
Murderer thus stands confessed before Rezenvelt, who
(of course) rushes on him to consummate " the wild
justice of revenge ;" but the Italian, too quick-for him,
commends the dagger to the husband's bosom, in pre-
ference to his own, and drives it pretty well into him,
but not with such instantly-fatal effect as when practis-
ing, some years previously, upon his wife. Bernard '
now makes for the crag from which the beacon-fire,
the signal" of the revolt, is to - be fired,
and where he expects to find Dorothea, whose
hand is to fire the torch on the arrival of
her father and her lover. The Italian determines to
seize upon and take her to the first Bavarian post,
Where, by giving notice of the intended revolt, he hopes,
after all, to secure her as his bride, steeped though his
hands are in her father's and her mother's blood, and to
have honours and riches heaped upon him. On his ar-
rival at the appointed rendezvous he feigns to her that
Suspicion is rife as to the plot, and that he is commis-
sioned by her father to stay "the signal." Dorothea,
who had never liked or trusted him (and who, of
course, had another love of her own, and not her father's
selection), demands some token from her father
that lie has really commissioned him (the
Italian) on this doubtful errand. He produces
the dagger which had previously been so very
useful to him, and she for a moment is pacified, re-
s:)llecting it well as having for years been carried by
her father. But her eye wanders from the well-known
rcndle to the blade, and on it she sees drops of blood,
arce yet dried. A horrible thought is now awakened
in her mind, and she turns from her companion with
horror and shuddering. She wishes to make for the
crag to light " the signal," but the wily Italian detains
her. With the true quickness of woman she pretends
she has lost her cloak, only a few yards behind,
and sends him to 'discover it. No sooner do his
receding footsteps die away upon the ear, than she
'mounts rapidly the mountain side to gain the beacon.
He returns, and seeing her design, rushes rapidly in pur-
suit of her. At this moment the wounded parent totters
'in, and, as the Italian is struggling with his intended
victim, " the dying patriot" (for so the bills call him, and
'so, therefore, do we) grasps a rifle that some " spirit of
health or goblin damn'd" had benevolently left on a
hedge hard by, and'at once lodges a bullet in the thorax
of his son-in-law that was to have been, who, of course,
drops from the crag into the shades below. Do-
rothea, the heroine of the revolt (and very well
that heroine was personated by Ivliss L. Melville)
now fires the signal, and the revolt takes place,—that is,
we suppose it does, for less of row or riot we never yet
saw or read of at a revolt. The "dying patriot" blesses
his now liberated country, and having given his daughter
in marriage to another young gentleman, in military
attire, who was luckily near at hand, gasps out bis latest
sigh,- and so brings all to a close. The character of
Rezenvelt was very fairly played by Mr. Laws, from the
Brighton theatre, a first appearance on these boards, and,
by the applause of the house, we may fairly prophesy
very far from a last one. In addition to the plot we
have thus sketched, there was an under-plot (if we
may so term it), of low comedy, in the persons of Sam
Nubbles, a London lozenge manufacturer on his travels
(Mr. G. Wild), and Rummy Tights, an extemporaneous
tiger following the fortunes and misfortunes of Nubbles
(Mr: Rogers). Both these characters, redolent of low
comedy in speech and action, were admirably acted, and
drew forth repeated plaudits and bursts of laughter.
The piece, of its kind, is a very creditable one, and we
have no doubt -will draw money. '1 here are some
sprightly snatches of song m it, which were well given,
especially by Miss Lebatt, who, in the after part of
heart," with excellent
ttahse evening, sang,
TTelhlemsecenmeyry in this drama of The
Signal, especially the mountain portion of it, deserves
praise, and we therefore state that Mr. Beverley is the
artist. The other new piece was a burlesque extra-
vaganza, caned Cinderella, or the Great Fairy
and the Little Glass Slipper,
and really it has
been most truthfully christened in the bills. A better
hit at Italian opera and French dancing we have never
seen, and, while full of fun, it is alike free from ill-
nature or low vulgarity. Cinderella, by Mademoiselle
Georgiana Wild, is one of the most amusing pieces of act-
ing we have ever seen. We can conclude as we have
begun, by repeating, that the manager has catered hap-
pily for the season, and that those who wish to " drive
dull care away" cannot-more effectually do it than by
going to the Olympic theatre.

STRAND THEATRE.
This snug little theatre was opened for the "summer
season last evening, when, among other sources of at-
traction provided for the audience, they were gratified
by the first appearance of a juvenile actress (according
to the bills only eight years o!d), Miss Heron, from the
Theatre Royal, Dublin, who made her bow to a London
audience in the character of Terry O'Rourke, alias Dr.
O'Toole, in the Irish Tutor. While the memory of poor
Power is.still fresh upon us, it is no trifling matter for
another to please in any one of those characters which
he made so peculiarly his own ; and in none was he
more laughter-exciting than that of Dr. O'Toole. It
must, therefore, be no slight merit that drew down such
repeated plaudits* as 'greeted the young aspirant to fam
from all parts of the house. In fact, she made a decided
hit. Her acting was marked by extraordinary tact,
cleverness, and just perception of the part she had to play;
and if there was any one matter in which correction
might be suggested, it was in her taking too much pains
to mark the brogue. This, perhaps, she thought re-
quisite to suit an English audience. The manner in
which she danced an Irish jig was admirable, and drew
forth an encore. The entertainments concluded with a
mythological burletta, entitled Venus and Mars; or, the
Golden Net, 'founded on the not very delicate subject
of the loves of those deities. It is'a.'Verldul piece, with
moderately good scenery, and was little more than re-
deemed from failure by the clever acting and singing
of Miss Louisa Lyons as Mars, and Miss Fitzjames as
Venus. The dialogue was totally devoid of point, and
the sentiments were anything but delicate. It did not
deserve to succeed.

by their rather broad drollery. The brothers Boleno,
as Harlequin and Clown; exhibited astonishing agility,
and Miss M. R. Fairbrother made a most graceful Co •
lumbine. Great credit is due to the manager, Mr.
Greenwood, for the manner in which the pantomime was
got up; and we have no doubt it will yet draw more
crowded houses than on this, the first night of its repre-
sentation.