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on his guard by Rose that he is in danger, and that the balls have been withdrawn from the pistols with which he was armed. He discovers about the same time that Rose is no other than his repentant child, who undertakes to restore the balls to his pistols; but, before she has time to do so, Redland and one of his associates enter: while Briarly has withdrawn, and Rose pretends to be asleep, they search his portmanteau, and Redland, by some let3 ters, finds that he has in his power the very man whom he most hates and fears, and hates because he fears. They are about to enter the room occupied by the old man, for the purpose of murdering him, when Rose shrieks, and Briarly rushes upon the stage. Redland attempts to discharge a pistol at him, which misses fire, and is about to draw the trigger of a second pistol, when Rose throws herself into the arms of her father to receive the ball, and to save his life. Redland pauses, summons four of his accomplices to his aid, and when they are upon the point of sacrificing the old man, Larry leaps in at the window, and with his "blunderbuss that never misses fire"-a stout shillelah -keeps them all at bay until the arrival of a military party. Redland rushes out, followed by his wife; the soldiers fire, and Briarly fears that his daughter has fallen, until Larry appears with her in his arms safe and sound, though a widow; for her husband luckily has been shot in the pursuit.

Miss E. Tree was an efficient represen tative of Rose, and gave strong interest to the character. Abbot was a spirited robber; Keeley was pleasant and humorous; and Blanchard's attorney was a correct study from nature.

The Royal Fugitive, or the Rights of Hospitality, which appeared on the 26th instant, cannot be called a new piece, being an alteration; or (as it would perhaps be more correct to call it) a restoration of a play called the Wanderer, written by Mr. C. Kemble, and acted in London several years ago. The licenser of that day, if we remember rightly, refused to permit the representation of the play in its original shape, from a notion that the recollection which it revived of the "young Chevalier" would be impolitic and hazardous. The persons of the drama were therefore changed; the Pretender was altered to some other fugitive prince, and the scene was removed to a foreign country. In this play the

story of the drama is restored to its propriety. The prince Charles in his attempt to escape from his pursuers, after the battle of Culloden, has destroyed all his hopes of regaining the throne of England, comes disguised and famished to the castle of the duke of Athol, and claims the protection of the duchess, in the absence of her husband. She is so far moved at his distresses that she determines to attempt to save him. The arrival of general Campbell, who is engaged in the pursuit of the prince and his scattered adherents, renders this extremely difficult; but his attachment to the niece of the duchess, who is represented as the beautiful and heroic Flora Macdonald, favors the plan. With the assistance of Sandy, an old servant of the duke, the prince is announced as the duke of Athol, is believed to be so by general Campbell, and his escape is nearly effected, but frustrated by the vigilance of the soldiers, who have been placed on guard by the general. He is then obliged to return to the castle; another attempt to reach the coast is planned, when intelligence arrives that a prisoner has been taken, who announces himself as the duke of Athol. After an entertainment given to the royal officers, in which the patience of the prince is put to a somewhat severe trial by the loyal toasts and sentiments of the guests, the real duke arrives. He is shocked at the cool reception which his wife gives him; but recognising the prince who has assumed his name, and to whom he has been indebted for his life on a former occasion, he understands her motives, favors the deception, and, by acknowleging that the suspicions of general Campbell, who takes him for the prince Charles, are well-founded, furnishes the latter with an opportunity of getting away in safety. The approach of the duke of Cumberland is then announced. He enters, and when the general triumphantly shows him his illustrious prisoner, the mistake is at once discovered by the duke of Cumberland giving him his right appellation. The explanation which ensues disarms his anger, the prince is beyond the reach of pursuit, and the piece thus terminates.

There was a new overture by Mr. Bishop, a pleasant and agreeable composítion; and several Scotch airs, arranged by Mr. Stansbury, were interspersed. Mr. Warde played the Pretender with considerable effect, and some dignity. The chief character in the piece, how

ever, is that of the duchess of Athol, and this was admirably acted by Miss Tree. The conflict between her feelings of loyalty, her natural disinclination to a deception so gross as that which she is forced to practise, and the humane motives which induce her to attempt to save the life of the hunted prince, were portrayed with great delicacy ands kill. This is a part which depends for its success almost entirely on the merit of the actress into whose hands it falls. Miss Tree made as much of it as could be made, and fully deserved the general applause with which her performance was received. Miss Cawse, as Flora Macdonald, had very little to act; but she sang some pleasing airs with great taste; and Mr. Wood is entitled to the same praise for the manner in which he acquitted himself. Mr. J. Russell played the old serving-man exceedingly well; and Mr. Blanchard was an excellent representative of Sir John Cope. The piece was favorably received. The music, and a ballet in which M. D'Albert was the principal figure, added to its attractions; and it is fairly entitled to public approbation.

THE HAYMARKET-THEATRE.

ALTHOUGH this house is at present closed, it is not altogether inexpedient to take notice of the new pieces which appeared in the latter part of the season, as it is our object to give something like a regular history of the stage.

A short piece, called Nothing SuperAuous, was received with some marks of favor, if not with loud applause. It has frequently been affirmed, that man is never happy in his present situation, but that, when he has gained one step on the ladder of ambition, fresh desires crowd upon him, and he becomes dissatisfied, unless he can gratify all those desires, however unnecessary or unjust their enjoyment may be; this all-grasping spirit is properly exposed in the present piece. The sultan Selim, who (like some of his predecessors) is fond of rambling incognito, happens to be assailed by banditti. He is rescued by the bravery of Sadi, a man who is steeped to the very chin in po verty, but is still merry. The sultan determines to reward his valor, and visits in disguise the neighbourhood of Sadi's dilapidated dwelling. He overhears a soliloquy uttered by his preserver, who declares that he should be the happiest of men if he could procure even the com

Selim ap

mon necessaries of life." proaches, charmed with Sadi's unambi tious feelings, and promises, as his good genius, to procure for him every thing he may desire, provided that he should require nothing superfluous," and that his demands should be restricted to that which is absolutely necessary. Sadi joyfully agrees to the proposition; but his wants soon begin to multiply. In quick succession he declares that a palace, a lovely wife, an estate, splendid clothes, and a retinue of slaves, are positively necessary for his happiness. Thus far his supposed good genius gratifies his engrossing disposition; but, when the upstart pauper orders his slaves to pull down a cottage that obstructs the prospect from his palace, and which the occupier refuses to sell, the sultan discovers himself, and, by directing Sadi's wife Gulnare to be borne away to his harem, in spite of entreaties and remonstrances, teaches him a practical lesson of the cruelty of oppressing the weak. This, however, is merely a ruse on the part of the sultan, who, having repri. manded Sadi, restores to him his bride, and confers on him a command in his army.

A short piece of a serious complexion was repeatedly performed with applause. It is called Fatality, and is the production of the ingenious Miss Boaden.General Loverule, being firmly of opinion that prudent marriages (confer more happiness than those in which love has set at defiance all the prejudices of society, separates his son Edward from Susannah, a girl in humble life, whom he has brought up with Edward, and who naturally returns the affection of the companion of her childhood; but, sacrificing her love to the gratitude which she owes to her benefactor, she consents to marry Bertrand, a soldier who had served under the general, but was incapacitated from future service in the field by an injury received in defending Edward's life. The story commences three years after Susannah's marriage, and finds her settled with her husband in a handsome farm, the gift of Edward to Bertrand. Though she is an exemplary wife and mother, her disappointment had caused a settled melancholy, which is displeasing to her husband, who is hasty and sensitive, but warmly attached to her. At this period, Edward, who has married a woman in high life, and been hated,

and at last dishonored by her, returns home to his father and his early friends. His presence gives Susannah great un easiness, lest Bertrand's jealousy should be roused; this is increased by Edward, who, wishing to unfold his griefs to her, seeks a private interview (which she re fuses), and is aided by Mrs. Lackbrain, Bertrand's cousin, who, upon his surprising Edward at Susannah's feet, generously turns his suspicions upon herself; but the folly of her husband, who is too stupid to be aware of the mischief he is doing, renders all her efforts unavailing, and circumstances combine to fix the appearance of guilt on Edward and Susannah, and awaken Bertrand's jealousy, who, stung almost to madness, will listen to no justification, but compels him to fight, and Edward falls by the hand, and with the very weapon, that a few years before preserved his life.

The

A comic piece under the title of Procrastination, or the late Mr. M., was brought forward with success. It is borrowed from the French, and well adapted to the English stage. business of the piece commences at the cottage of Sir John Franklin, at Rich mond, who has a lively niece, a youthful widow, Mrs. Vernon. With the charms of this lady, Mr. Montague had been smitten some years before at the operahouse. He had followed her, but missed her in the crush-room, having waited to speak with a friend. But fortune befriended him, and he found a subsequent opportunity of approaching the lady, and making his proposals. These were not unacceptable; his visits were put off from day to day; and when he arrived, at last, it was just in time to get a view of the back of the carriage in which the object of his admiration was whirled away on a nuptial trip. A fever sends her husband to his ancestors, and the lady is again free. Sir John entertains a great esteem for Mr. Montague, notwithstanding the habits of procrastination of the latter; he was the friend of his father, and is most desirous to have him for the second husband of his niece. A letter has been despatched to apprise him of his new chance, and he is daily expected at Richmond. Day after day, however, passes, and he does not present himself. Mrs. Vernon at length prescribes a term, beyond which she will no longer wait; that term is three days. In the mean time, another lover, in the person of major

VOL. X.

D'Arcy, favored by the waiting maid Flora, and not altogether an object of indifference to Mrs. Vernon, appears to occupy the vacant place in the widow's heart. In this position stand matters at Richmond, when in a distant part of the country we are introduced to the household of the absent, man, the late Mr. M.

The domestic establishment consists of himself, a protegée, Maria Duncan, accomplished and amiable, left to his care by his deceased father, and two old servants. Here begins the campaign of blunders, eccentricities, and strokes of humor. The very first explains the cause of the non-appearance of our hero at Richmond. Miss Duncan kindly puts his letters on his breakfast-table: she had done so constantly for weeks past, but the same fate awaited them every day; he put them by to read presently. At last he takes the trouble of opening one, and finds it ante-dated a fortnight. It contains an invitation from his anxious friend, Sir John; not a moment is to be lost; for, if he should not procure a wife within ten days, he was to forfeit a fortune of 30,000l. left to him on condition that he should be married within ten years from the death of the testator. This condition gives rise to an amusing scene. Mr. Perkins, a country attorney, comes with his sister, a former playmate of Mr. M., in the hope of making her a participatrix of the legacy. Mr. M., urged by his friends to contract a speedy marriage, listens to this proposal, even while he reflects on the age of his quondam play-fellow, (ten years older than himself,) and calls to mind certain indications of a temper, not the mildest in the world; such as the throwing of her own lap-dog out of the window, for putting its paws on her new silk, &c. He recoils. Assurances of reform, however, soften him, and he disposes himself to submit. But a dispute arises between the brother and sister; it is overheard by the

lover; the unchanged 'diabolical' temper of the lady, and the scheme of the brother, are fully betrayed. Our procrastinator then perceives in earnest that no time is to be lost in visiting the widow. Now, it happens that all this while his fair protegée is enamoured of her benefactor; but it would not be con sistent with the character of our absent man, had he divined the existence of such a feeling on her part. Even her unexpected and unaccountable grief at

4 I

his departure suggests no suspicion to Mr. M. To his faithful servant John, however, she entrusts a letter, desiring that it may be given to her benefactor when every thing is settled. After many delays and scrapes our hero arrives at Richmond, but he is not yet reformed; for there, while he is waiting, putting things off to be done presently, enters the gallant major to march off with the lady. John now humbly advances with the epistle of his young mistress, which opens the eyes of the absent man in time to make arrangements for the marriage with Maria before the valuable legacy

should be forfeited. Mr. M. could not have found any partner of his fortune so suitable or welcome to him; but the thought of an union with her had never occurred to him.

The play was well performed. The oddity of the late or procrastinating gentleman was amusingly delineated by Farren; Webster and Mrs. Glover were able representatives of the attorney and his sister; and Reeve's quaintness and drollery suited his character, which was that of a rustic servant.

THE ENGLISH OPERA-HOUSE.

In addition to the many novelties produced at this house during its short season, there appeared a short piece called Sold for a Song. The title is derived from the determination of an old music-mad Italian to give his ward in marriage to the minstrel who shall sing the best song. To this arrangement Adele is unconquerably averse, until at length it is arranged, through the contrivance of her waitingwoman, that her English lover, who has followed her all the way from England, shall be the only candidate for the honor, under a variety of disguises. Her guardian, delighted at her acquiescence in his plan, directs the competition to commence immediately; and Alfred, accordingly, makes his appearance successively as a Spanish, Italian, and English singer; the lady gives the choice to each in his turn, while her guardian as uniformly requires her to wait for another; but at length she becomes so complaisant, that she tells him, rather than encroach upon his scheme, she will marry all three: this, joined with the old man's declaration, that, if they were all present, he would give her to one, brings about the éclaircissement, and as the count musically expresses it, they wind up with a concerted piece.

On this occasion, Mr. J. Russell, as the count Cremona, exhibited his powers of burlesque singing in an extraordinary degree, and was particularly happy in his mode of representing how a very good song might be given with only one word to express the whole meaning of it. The two Misses Cawse played the ward and the waiting-maid; and of the elder sister we ought to say, that she took more pains to be lively and agreeable than she often condescends to do towards the audience. Mr. Wood was the gallant lover, and executed his task with considerable skill and merit; his last song, in the character of an English singer, was his best, and decidedly the happiest musical effort of Mr. Lee. It was descriptive of a soldier's parting from his mistress, and was given with great feeling.

THE ADELPHI-THEATRE.

This house has been re-opened with the flattering prospect of an undiminished continuance of the public favor. It may be said that the house, being small, is soon filled, without any great encouragement on the part of the public; but we may answer this remark by saying, that even the smallest theatres are not con

stantly filled without the attractions of skilful management and good acting.

Mr. O. Smith, the able performer of mysterious and monstrous characters, has been engaged at this house; and he introduced himself to its frequenters in the part of Three-fingered Jack, which he enacted with applause. In other pieces he has likewise manifested his intelligence, activity, and spirit.

Early in the season appeared the Floating Beacon, a nautic burletta, which was favorably received. Mr. Yates played with his usual skill, and made the captain of the Beacon an interesting character. The part of Jack Junk was filled by Mr. Gallot, who is a good representative of a hardy sailor. Mrs. Edwin, as Mariette, the mysterious woman of the Beacon, met with great applause. The scenery also was good; and the termination of the piece, when the Beacon founders, and a life-boat saves the crew, was a successful application of the powers of modern machinery to scenic effect.

Another burletta soon followed, which was still more successful than the former. Its title is, Love Laughs at Bailiffs; and the plot is adroitly managed as the