THE NATIONAL 'REGIS' Ir. 8. Richard or Hamlet, but the manner in which he died was novel atui excellent. Mortally wounded, he stood stagger ing a while; then raising his arm with apparent difficulty, attempted to strike his enemy, but missing his distance, the sword dropped from his hand, and he fell forward in the ago nies of death. Redoubled peals of applause formed his re quiem, and the same tragedy was announced for Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, of next week, in the midst of simi lar marks of approbation. COVENT GARDEN. It is in the natute of genius, as in that of hetoism,to rise in the midst of difficulties, and to gain fresh splendour in the struggle. Miss O'Neill furnishes an additional proof of the truth of that observation. Every character which she has hitherto assumed, though transcending each other in arduous importance, has only served to display a corresponding ex tent of powers, and to call forth new perfections to the sight. In Juliet she realised in attractive softness, bewitching tender ness, and passionate wildness, all that youthful imaginations can dream of love, in its vicissitudes of hope, joy and dis pair. In Belvidera, the still higher sensibilities of the daughter and the wife, contending for a father's life, and a husband's honour, burst forth with resistless energy. In Isabella (in which she appealed for . the first time on Friday. last) the deep distress of the desponding and forsaken widow, now wandering with her child to beg the bread of life at a cruel father's door, now flying from the fatiguing solicita tions of a lovet, and at last driven by her sense of gratitude, a self-sacrificed victim into his arms; the melancho'y resig nation with which she bears her second husband's happiness, ,at the price of her own, and the conflicting joy and despair with which she receives her Biron, as it were from the dead, until the storm of woe overpowers her reason, and only gleams of sense and feeling it radiate her ravings, were tran scendant beauties which had been lost since the days of Mrs. Siddons, and which, until Miss O'Neill recalled them once snore from the bosom of nature, the most sanguine only hoped to behold-in the glass of memory. In every part'Of lsalcila, Miss O'Neill rose far superior to every actress who still holds possession of the Stage. But this is now little for her, and we shall therefore only men tion those passages in which she rivalled the brightest excel lencies of the British Melpomene. Several of this kind ap peared in the very first scenes: When tormented by Ville re/tt love, she exclaims, Oh ! I have heard all MIN! But must no more—the charmer is no mere. My buried husband ri,es in my face Of my dear boy, and chides me for my stay. ,The deep felt melancholy with which she dwells on her loss, and the ardour with which she embraces her child, when she fancies she descries in his features those of her husband, chiding her for her stay, flowed from, and went to, the heart. In the interview with Count Baldwin, almost every line might be quoted ; but the despairing earnestness with which she urges the claims of her boy to relief, Not fur ruyself—tor I am past the hopes Of being heard—but fur this innocent. The sudden glance and smile of joy with which sbe hears the half-relenting father say, that he almost pities the un happy child, and the energy of maternal affection wrought to madness, with which she clasps . her son to her bosom, at the bare idea of parting with him, whilst her countenance assumes all the wildness of despair, at these words, What ! take him (masque ! Na, we must never part : I live but in my 'child, bite. Were never transcended even by that great actress, wh4)se excellence was hitherto considered unequalled. The scene with her child, when she parts with her hus band's ring, and enjoins the nurse to Menage it itS the in9t, remaining friend Thirt would relieve us ; And, at the approach of her creditors, after giving way to the first feelings ora!ai m, " Hark ! they are fuming I" recovers a forced serenity and sinks into the resignation of despair— - ' 4g Let the torrent roar : It con hilt overwhelm me in its hill ; And life and death are nom Alike to me." offered a crowd of beauties 'of the first order. . - Wiwi) in the next she yields to gratitude, and after-declaring Mai het pleasures are buried in her dead husband's grave, she' adds— " If after what I've said yen can resolve To think me worth your love —" The horror with which she suddenly starts at the idea of accept. in; a second husband, and the wild and eager hope. with which,. clinging to her child, as to her supporter in her resistance, she wel comes the thought, that it is impossible l'illeroy should consider Lest worthy to be his wit's., and exclaims— " Where am I going? Yon cannot think it ;—lis impossible." electrified the house, and brought down peals of applaese. tier menial absence, when wedded to V illerrJ, and resolved to fulil the duties of a wife, she represses her melancholy feelings, but after vain efforts to share surrounding joy, sinks deep in thought amidst the songs of exultation, was most just and natural, as well- as the slight start with which she returns to a consciousness of the present when ad dressed by Carlo:. To particularize every passage would be mile's. but nothing could surpass in excellence the agitation displayed in her voice, het countenance and her manner on receiving Bireat's ring : the trembling anxiety, mixed with all that hope has of pleasing and fear of terrible, with which she slowly turns to examine him as he emerit i , and her hurried, breathless, and almost stifling burst.of melancholy .sas tisfuetion when, deceived by his disguise, she exclaitnsl "My fears were woman's—l have view'd him all, And let me, let me say it to myself, I live again and rise but from the tomb. Her shriek on finding it is Baran who stands before Mr, pierced every heart, and her falling senseless on the floor was the best thift we have ever witnessed. Het forgetfidnees of all that has passed. when recovering from her fit, she is alive only to present joy, until her husband himself awakes the storm of woe in her bosom : her despair in the soliloquy in which she considers the horrors of her situation, and the exultation blazing on her countenance %dictum's ing the dagger, and uplifting her arm ready to strike, the cries. " Ha ! a lucky thought, 'Tis but a blow l" The majesty of her attitude, the wild expression of her countenance and the desperate energy ef her voice, reached sublimity. . We should have no room were we to describe all the beauties of the same order with which the following scenes abounded, and vie shall pass to the moment when clinging to her murdered husband's bnly, she calls upon him for help lest they should be torn asunder, strugzles with all the strength of despair, and when carried away by force drags him after her exclaiming " Cut off my hand, N Let me leave something with him." She was so deeply affecting at this moment that the shock was too powerful fur the feelings of several ladies in the house , and beside the tears that inundated the cheeks of sympathizing beauty, several fair ones were carried off in fits from the boxes. Meanwhile seven distinct peals of applause testified the admiration of the audience. Her dying scene was also most affecting. After she has struck the niurol blow, and her hysteric exultation is past, the sympathies of nature began to revive :: he ca ll e d f ur h er son , folded him to her b.)surn, and covered him with kisses, halt supporting her kneeling and tottering body on his tender frame. At lt4t death conquered her strength without weaken ing her feelings. Her arms reluctantly I owned their embrace, she tried to renew it, hat stink cerilly backwards clasping the vacont air. —ln vain she rtpeated her efforts; they became shorter and shorter, her arms closed upon her breast, and the last feeling which animated her soul betUre it took its flight, was the most powerful and the must interesting of all maternal adiction. Unbounded applause tollowed her death. The house hci been crowded in every part since the beginning of the piece, and a due part of the approbation of a most overflowing audience WI& Lestow ed on Jr. Yowl iu Birun . and Abbott in Carlos. 111 . 11•11 IJI Lavaa vii7oa;i iGilit/11• jabl. a j , ',b,. •••-••••• •. b0a.... •••••.. •••••• - " hitherto assumed, though transcending each other in arduous If after what I've said yen can resolve To think me worth your love —" importance, has only served to display a corresponding ex- The horror with which she suddenly starts at the idea of aceept• tent of powers, and to call forth new perfections to the sight. ing a second husband, and the wild and eager hope. with which. In Juliet she realised in attractive softness, bewitching tender- clinging to her child, as to her supporter in her resistance, she wet- ness, and passionate wildness, all that youthful imaginations comes to the thought, that it is impossible l'illeroy should consider Is worthy to be his wit's., and exclaims— can dream of love, in its vicissitudes of hope, joy and dis - " Where am I going? pair. In Belvidera, the still higher sensibilities of the Yon cannot think it;—'cis impossible." daughter and the wife, contending foe a father's life, and a electrified the house, and biought down peals of applause. . husband's honour, horst forth wilt resistless energy. In Her menial absence, when wedded to V illeroy, and resolved to fulfil the duties of a wife, she represses her melancholy feelings, but after Isabella (in which she appenied for . the test time on Friday. vain efforts to share surrounding joy, sinks deep in thought amidst the last) the deep distress of the desponding and forsaken widow, soup of exultation, was most just cud natural, as well- as the slight ,11.1 w wandering with her child to beg the bread of life at a start with which she returns to a consciousness of the present when ad- , cruel father's door, now flying from the fatiguing solicita- dressed by Carlo:. To particularize every passage would be endless, lions of a lover, and at last driven by her sense of gratitude, but not hing t could surpass in excellence the agitation displayed in be' eoice, het countenance and her manner on receiving Birtne . s ring : the i a self-sacrificed victim into his arms; the melancho ' y resig - ' trembling anxiety, mixed with all that hope has of pleasing and fear nation with which she bears her second husband's happiness, of terrible, with which she slowly turns to examine him as he eater* ,at the price of her own, and the conflicting joy and despair and her hurried, breathless, and almost stifling burst.of melancholy .sas with which she receives her Biron, as it were from the dead, tisfuctiun when, deceived by his disguise, she exclaitnsl until the storm of woe overpowers her reason, and only '` My fears were woman's—l have view'd him all, And let me, let me say it to myself, gleams of sense and feeling it radiate her ravings, were I ran- i live again and rise but from the tomb. scendant beauties which had been lost since the days of Mrs. Her shriek on finding it is Biron who stands before her, pierced Siddons, and which, until Miss O'Neill recalled them once every heart, and her falling senseless on the floor was the best Oil snore from the bosom of nature, the most sanguine only we have ever witnessed. Het forgetfulnees of all thatt has paseed. when recovering from her tit, she is alive only to pnt joy, until hoped to behold-in the glass of memory. • her husband himself awakes the storm of woe in her bosom : her In every part'Of lsahilla, bliss O'Neill rose far superior to despair in the soliloquy in which she considers the horrors of her every actress who still holds possession of the Stage. But situation, and the exultation blazing on her countenance when stia. this is now little for her, and we shall therefore only men- ing the dagger, and uplifting her arm ready to strike, she cries Lion those passages in which she rivalled the brightest excel- " Ha! a lucky thought, 'Tis but a blow l" lencies of the British Melpomene. Several of this kind ap- The majesty oilier attitude, the wild expression of her conntenaece peared in the very first scenes: When tormented by Ville- and the desperate energy ef her voice, reached sublimity. ruts love, she exclaims, . We should have no room were we to describe all the beauties of Oh ! I have heard all this! the same order with which the following scenes abounded, and vie But must no more—the charmer is no unlit. shall pass to the moment when clinging to her murdered husband's 11Iy buried husband rises in my face I batty, she calls upon him for help lest they should be torn asunder, • Of my dear boy, and chides me fur my stay. strugzles with all the strength of despair, and when carried away by ,The deep felt melancholy with which she dwells on her force drags him after her exelaiming loss, and the ardour with which she embraces her child, " Cut off my hand, when she fancies she descries in his features those of her . " Let me leave something with him." She was so deeply affecting at this moment that the shock was too husband, chiding her for her stay, flowed from, and went powerful fur the feelings of several ladies in the house, and beside the to, the heart. , tears that ieriudated the cheeks of sympathizing beauty, several fair In the interview with Count Baldwin , almost every line ones were carried off in fits from the boxes. Meanwhile seven distinct might be quoted ; but the despairing earnestness with which peals of applause testified the admiration of the audience. Her dying she urges the claims of her boy to relief, scene was also most affectieg. After she has struck the mortal blow, Not fur myself—for lam past the hopes " and her hysteric exultation is past, the sympathies of nature began to revive :: he called fur her son, folded him to her Lowrie amid covered Of being heard—but fur this innocent. him with kisses, halt supporting her kneeling and tottering body on his The sudden glance and smile of joy with which sbe hears tender frame. At last death conquered her strength without weaken- , the half-relenting father say, that he almost pities the un- ing her feelings. Her arms reluctantly I owned their embrace, she happy child, and the energy of maternal affection wrought i d tr_e_ to renew it, hat stink gently backwards claspiee the vacont air. to madness, with which she clasps . her son to her bosom, at —ln vain she rtpeated her efforts; they became shorter and shorter, the bare idea of parting with him, whilst her countenance her arms closed upon her breast, and the last feeling which animated her soul before it took its flight, was the most powerful and the must assumes all the wildness of despair, at these words, interesting of all maternal affixtion. , What ! take him frortema ! Usiboomiled applause tollowed her death. The house had herr, Na, we must never part : crowded in every part since time beginning of the piece, and a due I live but in 'child, b ee. ' my ' part of the approbation of a most overflowing filldiCIICC WI& Lestow- Were never transcended even by that great actress, whw.e ed on Mr. Young iu Biros and Abbott in Carlos. excellence wet hitherto considered unequalled. • . . .. - • . , •