dresses, and with the well-known accompaniment of the music, put us in mind of the old chivalrous times of the Duke de Nemours and the Princess of Cleves, or of what really seems to us longer ago, the time when we ourselves used to be called out at school before the assembled taste and fashion of the neighbourhood, to go through this very dance with the partner whom we had selected for this purpose, and presented with a bunch of flowers on the occasion! The opera had less justice done it than the ballet. The laughing trio' was spoiled by Mr. Naldi, who performs the part of an "Old Philosopher" in it, but who is more like an impudent valet or major-domo of an hotel. We never saw any one so much at home; who seems so little conscious of the existence of any one but himself, and who throws his voice, his arms and legs about with such a total disregard of bienséance. The character is a kind of opera Pandarus, who exposes the inconstancy of two young ladies, by entangling them in an intrigue with their own lovers in disguise. Mr. Braham, we are told, sings Mozart with a peculiar greatness of gusto. But this greatness of gusto does not appear to us the real excellence of Mozart. The song beginning Secondate," in which he and his friend (Signor Begri) call upon the gentle zephyrs by moonlight to favour their design, is exquisite, and "floats upon the air, smoothing the raven down of darkness till it smiles." 2 "And Silence wished, she might be never more 994 Madame Fodor's voice does not harmonize with the music of this composer. It is hard, metallic, and jars like the reverberation of a tight string. Mozart's music should seem to come from the air, and return to it. Madame Vestris is a pretty little figure, and is in this respect a contrast to Madame Fodor. "E voi ridete," Cosi fan Tutti, I. 2 See Troilus and Cressida, III, ii. 4 An allusion to Comus, 249-52 and 557-60. 3 Cosi fan Tutti, II. OLD CUSTOMS. [English Opera] August 11, 1816. WE have suffered two disappointments this week, one in seeing a farce that was announced and acted at the English Opera, and the other in not seeing one that was announced and not acted at the Haymarket. We should hope that which is to come is the best; for the other is very bad, as we think. Old Customs1 is a farce or operetta, in which an uncle (Mr. Bartley) and his nephew (Mr. Wrench) court the same young lady (Miss L. Kelly). She prefers the nephew, from whom she has received several letters. These, with her answers, she sends to Mr. Bartley in a packet or basket, to convince him of her real sentiments, and of the impropriety of his prosecuting his rivalry to his nephew. In the mean time, it being Christmas or New Year's Day (we forget which), Bartley's servant (Russell) receives a visit from his old mother, who, in this season of compliments and presents, brings him a little sister in a basket, and leaves it to his care, while she goes to see her acquaintance in the village. Russell, after singing a ludicrous lullaby to the baby, goes out himself and leaves it in the basket on the table, a great and improbable neglect, no doubt, of his infant charge. His master (Bartley) soon after comes in, and receives the letter from his mistress (Miss L. Kelly), informing him of a present she has sent him in a basket, meaning her packet of loveletters, and apologizing for the abrupt method she has taken of unfolding the true state of her heart and progress of her affections. Bartley looks about for this important confidential basket, and finds that which the old woman had left with 1 Old Customs; or, New Year's Gifts, by S. Beazley, from the French piece L'heureux quid pro quo, produced August 5, music by Corri. her son, with its explanatory contents. At this indecency of the young lady, and indignity offered to himself, he grows. very much incensed, struts and frets about the stage, and when Miss L. Kelly herself, with her father and lover, comes to ask his decision upon the question after the clear evidence which she has sent him, nothing can come up to the violence of his rage and impatience, but the absurdity of the contrivance by which it is occasioned. His nephew (Mr. Wrench) provokes him still farther, by talking of a present which he has left with him that morning, an embryo production of his efforts to please, meaning a manuscript comedy, but which Mr. Bartley confounds with the living Christmas-box in the basket. A strange scene of confusion ensues, in which every one is placed in as absurd and ridiculous a situation as possible, till Russell enters and brings about an unforeseen dénouement, by giving an account of the adventures of himself and his little brother.' Such is the plot, and the wit is answerable to it. There was a good deal of laughing, and it is better to laugh at nonsense than at nothing. But really the humours of Punch and the puppet-show are sterling, legitimate, classical comedy, compared with the stuff of which the Muse of the new English Opera is weekly delivered. But it is in vain to admonish. The piece, we understand, has since been withdrawn. [Love in a Village is put off till Thursday next, and Mr. Incledon is to perform in Artaxerxes on Tuesday. Mr. Horn played the Seraskier in The Siege of Belgrade' on Friday, and sung the songs, particularly "My heart with love is beating," with great truth and effect. Mr. Russell's Leopold was very lively. It is not necessary to say that Miss Kelly's Lilla was good, for all that she does is so. The Duke and 1 Called " a little sister on the previous page; the farce is not printed. 2 By James Cobb, music by S. Storace and Martini; it was played August 9. Duchess of Gloucester were present,' and were very cordially greeted by the audience. After the play, "God save the King" was repeatedly called for, and at length sung, with an additional, occasional, and complimentary verse by Mr. Arnold: "Long may thy Royal Line, Proud Star of Brunswick, shine! Joy may thy Daughter share, Blest be the Royal Pair; God save the King." At the Haymarket, where the same Illustrious Personages appeared for the first time in public (since their marriage) the night before,2 the following stanza was introduced: "Great George! thy people's voice Till echoes ring. This shout still rends the air, May she prove blest as fair! Long live the noble Pair! God save the King."]. MY LANDLADY'S NIGHT-GOWN. [Haymarket] August 18, 1816. THE new farce at the Haymarket-Theatre, called My Landlady's Night-Gown,3 is made of very indifferent stuff. It is 1 The Duke of Gloucester married his cousin Princess Mary on July 22. 2 The performance at the Haymarket on August 8 comprised Exit by Mistake, Blue Devils, and The Agreeable Surprise. 3 My Landlady's Gown, by W. C. Oulton, was produced August 10. Jones was Jack Jocund; Barnard, Perceval; Russell, Timothy Button; Tokely, Dermot O'Finn; and Miss Copeland, Biddy. There was no Miss Ives in the cast. very tedious and nonsensical. Mr. Jones is the hero of the piece, and gives the title to it; for being closely pressed by some bailiffs, he suddenly slips on his Landlady's Nightgown, and escapes in disguise from his pursuers, by speaking in a feigned female voice to one of them, and knocking the other down by an exertion of his proper and natural prowess. Such is the story which he himself tells, to account for the oddity of his first appearance. Yet the apology is not necessary. Mr. Jones himself is always a greater oddity than his dress. There is something in his face and manner that bids equal defiance to disguise or ornament. The mind is affirmed by a great poet to be "its own place: "1 and Nature, in making Mr. Jones, said to the tailor, "You have no business here." Whether he plays my Lord Foppington 2 in pointlace, or personates an old woman in My Landlady's NightGown, he is just the same lively, bustling, fidgetty, staring, queer-looking mortal; and the gradations of his metamorphosis from the nobleman to the footman are quite imperceptible. Yet he is an actor not without merit; the town like him, and he knows it; and as to ourselves, we have fewer objections to him the more we see of him. Use reconciles one to any thing. The only part of this entertainment which is at all entertaining, is the scene in which Russell, as the tailor, measures Jones for a new suit of clothes. This scene is not dull, but it is very gross, and the grossness is not carried off by a proportionable degree of wit. We could point out the instances, but not with decency. So we shall let it alone. Tokely's character is very well, but not so good as Crockery. He is an actor of some humour, and he some 2 In A Trip to Scarborough. 1 Paradise Lost, i, 254. 3 After the first seven performances Mr. Barnard took the place of Mr. Jones, being himself succeeded by Mr. Baker. The Theatrical Inquisitor for September says: "Mr. Jones, no doubt, relinquished this character in consequence of the animadversions of a Sunday critic, whose theatrical remarks are now of very little weight. This critic . . called Mr. Oulton's farce My Landlady's NIGHT-Gown." 4 In Exit by Mistake, see p. 231 ante. R |