THE NATIONAL REGIST* 190 THE THEATRE. -•••11Pw•-- COPEhr 0.4 R ARIV. •N THE CHAR AFTER OE RICHARD THE Tntßn, AND ON Nab cOOKE'S REPRESENTATION OF IT. On Monday eveniur Mr. Cooke performed the character of Glonrc4tr, in Shakespeare's king Ric Ailed the Mid. it was in Rkhard that he orig inally stamped his reputation with the ; and he is gil l as popular in the representation of this' tragic hero, as even in hi, admirable performance of Sir Per ,itme .114efylipliont, f/zr Mott of the Werld. But the popularity of au aetrir is frequently as little de served its the popularity of a statesman or of a beauty : acci- dem teen heg - ins, and fashion continues it. It therefore be comes the business of those who undertake the duties of public admouition, to iavestigate %skit accuracy the claims of all who possess or seek the favour of the world : in order that some records sit least may so h which shall prove to another geceretion that fashion even when general was not ab solute arming us--and which, like sea-marks, shall curve, when the :Laid has retired, to designate the boundaries appointed by nature. The part of Gloucester, afterwards Richard the Third, is one which almo - .4 all actors in the first walk of tragedy have en deavoured to represent ; and it appears to have been one in which tint teats of them have snecreded. The phy, as it is now sicced, rimy almost be coesidered a maim:tram. : and perhaps it is tl.e singular prominence of Richard's character that has tempted so many men to essay its persouation. But this pro 'retina from the atinsas may be as dangerous for a performer of ordinary endues men's. as it is glorious for an actor of power ful ge.-.as; for all here depends on the exertions of one in dividual. The play has no relief, %from comic interspersions, ar from coin 'lists of character— Richard is the only portrait vs ha:ae suture= are tilled up, the only figure on whom the e%t• IS !lerre.!ied to dwell. or has Shakspeare diversified tthe di-p.sition of his hero with any cf those softer emotions „harp sv to the actor an interval of relaxation ; so that %I• Undertakes to play Melia, if Thi:d, must brace nerves to the highest tension, and having once brought biat-elf to the requisite pitch, must immoveably " ':carers his ermrage to the stieking place." The ratan Mimic characters are all tl•.rown back at too great a :list:nice to nssi•t the drams of the priaeipal actor, or diminish the efiret. of his failure. lie ventares on a aide sat ter: if his •Irength tit 111 enable him to swim across it, he indeea a ill attain the de,irial shore : but if his powers ore too weak to hear hint aver one nnintorrupted exertion, he must sink, without hope, became Ins o isrades are retnnte, and a ithout pity, becau , e his daneer tta , horn voluntary . the amliition of actors may have induced them I)4,l'Ni - wing Sir g Richard, it is diQicult, at a first i, v. to • f aaaei apaa is hal priaci the peop!e have delighted uert'urniances. A little rim-Mena thin will etiable t- 10 ..ii , .eaver the springs of intelleetual satisfaction that it e bee.. !oil. hod by Sha%cspeare in the play of which sir are %peaking and the sab.ject is very well worthy of attention, as .:Ma i liag oonly' of the human mind, and an exercise for those whirs the•.trical ta.te :nay induce them to investigate the meta ph i sies of same more of Shakiapeare's heroes : since the same acueral principles, under different modifications, may he ap plied to the chwacters of Macbeth, logo, and several other con spicuous persons of the drama. It is nest our hiriusas hare, to consider how far Shakespeare may have agreed with historical truth in deliuratina, his Richard the Third ; for even if Lord Orford's ingenious defence of that Prince he admitted as conclusive. the duty of an actor will still he to represent the Richard of Shakespeare, net the Richard cif old Chronicles —artd the duty of a critic. will therefore hr to inquire why Shakespeare's Richard has alforded ;demur,: in representa tion, not how Shakespeare might have muddled a Richard from history. The pleasure experienced in the representation of this play certainly does not arise from its plot and incidents. For the plot in general, like that of Slmkuspearz's other playa of the same class, is rather a history in dialogue than a dramatic fable: and the individual incidents, though they moat of them tend to Ike elevation, or prepare the downfall, of the principal cha racter, yet by no means possess that mutual dependence, cow- Iletethaa, and climax, which are necessary for gis ing powerful Interest to a play. As to the poetry, however beautiful it may bei.dvery novice in a Theatre is well aware that tine writing .aloes .111 tent make a tragedy popular ia su that MARCH 20. the pleasure that is felt at the performance of this piece mmt result from character and sit Linn. The s ituations are not nu merous, but they arc genernlly u ell adapted to the deyelve. ment of character : and what is the nature of the gratification here produced by character, we will therefore proceed to con sider. From a mere delineation of atrocious vier, no sort of plea. sure arises to the spectator : disgust and horror alone pervade his mind : and when a personage of unmixed evil is represent e d on the btage, the pleasure experienced by the audience at the play in a Mich such a personage is found (as far as their plea sure proceeds front the portraitnre crier eiracter) is usually pro duced by the striking contrast of some good and binned heiog. Then the disagreeable emotions occasioned by vice any remarried into a pleasing seas:taint by the opposition of %little: and ihe shadows which, if unrelieved, would have struck a frightful gloom upon our vision, become beautiful by an artful jasta position ()flight But in the play of Richard Ihr Third there is no character that forms a contrast with the blondy villainy of Ghurester-s-several of the subordb.ate parts are nnw coo. 'licitly omitted on the stage—and among those that remain it i~t difficult to find one which strongly excites or probates our svni pithy. A scene is introduced from the third part of king Henry the Sixth, prchably for the purpose of producing an intereia : but nobody cares ahont the murder of gritty, or the sorra ws of Cady Anne. For Buckingham and Stanley then. is little anx iety : and King Edward's widow w ill' her children, and the Riga! Duchess of York, are heard without much solicitude. Rh-Arnaud himself, who may perhaps Is' called the hero of the piece, is not introduced till the fifth act : and till he is seen in so general and indefinite a character, that if he carry the au dience along with him he pleases, not by his ONI - 11 intrinsic merits, but the circumstance of his contention with Richard. In this single character of Richard, then, and in the situations that display him, the whole charm of this tragedy appears to conj. t and yet in this character deformity of person is added to every vice that can disgrace the human heart; and there must be something in the portrait which goes heyand the mere deli:Tee th»n e f rice. or the mantis ed evil of the object represented would necesaril v rep alt, instead of pleasing us. But as that something cannot cow ist in any moral virtue, it is to be sought in an intel lectual ,peril: and thus, after an analysis of our own sensations, it appears. that when we feel a pleasure in contemplating the character of Richard, this pleasure must arise chisyfg front our admiration of his extraordinary talents and nndanntrd courage : qualities which have something in them so commanding, and so awful, that he who possesses them eau never inspire us with disgust or contempt, however he may fill es with indignation. We have s aid, that our pleasure must arise chiefly from our ad miration of hi= intellectual qualities; because, through four acts of the tragedy, there is no other feeling that takes decided pos• session of our minds; hut, in the fifth act, we have a new source of gratification, in the prospect of that punishment, which, throughout the whole play, we have longed to see the usurper un dergo. II is courage and his wisdom, rising with the danger of hi. situation, render the event of the play still doubtful, and the nitimate satisfaction of our indignant jn•lice affords an agreea ble rellectien when the curtain has fallen. If such he the character, and such the causes which give effect to the character, of Richard the Third, an actor aim plans this part should not only display the atrocity of the usur per's disposition, but also, in order to satisfy persons of good taste, giec 11Y: greatest possib.le jOree In the qualities call-Waled to produce pleasant impressions, and exhibit, to the utmost ad vantage, the wisdom and gallantry with which Skakspeare has invested his hero. lint Mr. ('ouke acts only one portion of Richard's character --Gamely. the deep malignity which appears, when reserve does not happen to be neces‘ary. All that hypocritical villany, which should look like virtue, all that nattering falshood which should pass fur attachment, are so broadly depicted by him, that it is impqrible to fancy anybody could he deceived, with so palpable a cheat. The real es:cellencies, too, which exist in the mind of Richard are so coarsely described by the face and gesture of this actor, that the politician's prudence seems wretched cunning, the dignity of the prince appears the arro gance of an upstart, and the courage of the warrior has the nir of awkward desperation. In fact, Mr. Cooke has sn►t beeu calcula!ed, by nature, for heroic expression: his conceptiou,s are not lofty, and even if they were, his face, his tigure, and his dc pormout, would be inadequate to give them due effect. 'e shall conclude this article by pointing out two or three passages as examples of Mr. Cooke's deficiency, and by re cording those iostauces in whkb he appeared to us to be most miaal!th - • OM* , • ~~