MAY 8. THE THEATRES. • 400**tv•to . DRURE..LANIC , 4; ),6 1 .t! 1 .44 , 44414044 c Although we are not among those who conceive that Comedy is now at a very low ebb in Great Britain, yet we have more than Once had occasion to regret that the English Opera has fallen to to deplorable a situation as that which it occupies at the pre sent day. Mr. Cumberland has produced an Opera called the j ct . , Mogadore, which was acted for the first time on Tuesday evening : and we are sorry to say, that he has done nothing fur the redemption of English credit in this particular. To say that Mr. Cumberland's dialogue does not abound with bad Eng lish, bad Grammar, stupid puns, and false metaphors, is to say very little in his favour; and yet we are obliged to confess that in his favour we can add little more. The story of this piece it will be impossible for ns to lay be fore our Headers, because, with all the attention that we be slimed upon the play, during the representation, we NI are till able. to discover any thing that approached the nature of a plat. We were fortunate enough to perceive only that the Prince of Nogadore was in love with a lady, m ho, attended by some per sow., float Ope n s, was shipwrecked on the African coast, and bought by a Jew of Al ogadore. This Jew was exceedingly be mcvolent, for he purchased slaves, that he might have the plea bare of setting them free again, and probably, as the vulgar say ing has it, he contrived to live by the loss. The Prince seemed to be a good deal displeased at first, when he understood that Giovanni, who seemed to be the commander of the vessel from Cyprus, had taken the liberty of bringing the lady with him : but on thalii:g that Giovanni had used her very well, he graci oasis forgave him. On the arrival of the news of the old Mo narch's death, which happens, with great dramatic fitness, in the last act, the Prince ascends the throne, and all the people seem to be happy enough. It is observable that the Jew, whose principles are so adverse to slavery, has long kept in his house an Irishman, and a woman who we believe is a Persian, as mere slaves : and at the end of the play, recollecting that his cowcience is hostile to slavery, he tells them that he cannot think of keeping them as slaves, Itnd compliments them by re questing their acceptance of their lihorty. There is another Jew, of a less liberal disposition, who bring s himself into the disa greeable clutches of the penal law, and then is begged off: but we could not at all understand what he had to do with the play. The character, or rather the part, which Mrs. Bland represent ed, is attended, to our view, with the same disadvantage. The actors were ton good for the business they had to exe cute. Mr. Donlon, from whose character of Nadal, the play takes its name, had nothing to do but to speak a few benevolent sentences; and if the Managers have a mind to equalize their ac tors in the general opinion, by way of gettin4 gas excuse for lowering their salaries, we think they cannot contrive any bet ter :scheme than that of putting good comedians into such parts as this Jew. These are the parts that remove all distinction be ta good actors and bad ones ; for, as the servant says in the farce, Joan is as good as my lady in the dark. Mr. Penlev plays the other Jew : and we should recommend it to him, when this Jew is labouring under the apprehens4als of speedy execu tion, to be a little less jocular in his tone and in the muscles of his face. Madame Catalani, it is true, has a smile upon her court . tenanee even in the deepest distress; but Mr. Penley is not so pmtty as Madame Catalani, and does not become a smile by any means so well.; and . besides, an actor or actress, though hand somer than Apollo or Venu•-. should always recollect that peo ple in extremity of sullering are not apt to indulge themselves iii mirth : let not sir. Penley plead the almost solitary example of Sir Thomas Moore, who jested as he mounted the scatiol3.—We anust not omit to praise the chaste, yet impressive actin°. of Mr. Bollaud, in the part of the Prince. The music is the production of Mr. Kelly. We will not af front that gentleman by any compliments about its originality, for we know that he would perceive the irouical effect which such panegyric must convey ; hut he deserves at least the credit of having well adapted most of the songs to the talents of the respective singers. Mr. Braham and Mrs. Mountain did the greatest justice to the compositions which were committed to them. The Play was heard with the most attentive endurance, ti': the end; itut human fortitude could not, without some expres sion of impacience, sutler so very dull, tint, and unintelligible an opera; and the hisses of the audience became so loud and so general, as to drown the voice of Mr. Holland, who tried to gpveit out for :t second representation. But the play bills, as ta T ull, inform u. every morning of its great success, and the COL LLtilla to be acted. THE NATIONAL. REGISTER COI RNT-OARDEN. Boadicea, a play of Beaumont and Fletcher, was acted on Tuesday night, for the benefit of Mr. Cooke, and repeated on Thursday night for the injury of the Theatre. This very ill constrncted and very harshly written drama, is thus cast in it* principal characters : Caratach Mr. Cooke.. liengo .. .Miss M. Bristow. Suctonius .Mr. Murray. Pcnius Pelillius Mr. Pope. Junius ...Mr. Brunton. Judas Mr. ;Vanden. Bonduca Mrs. St. Leger; .Pirt Daughter -.Mrs. H. Johnston'. Second Daughter .Miss Bristow. The story is very nearly the same as that of the Drury Lane Ballet, to which it has served as a model. The Romans under tinetorcius have invaded England. They engage and conquer the Britons. Punius, who, in consequence of a quarrel with the General, has refused to light against.the Britons, kills himself in remorse on learning the glory that his Roman fellow-soldiers have gained. Caraench. the British chief, being defeated, flies among the rocks with the boy llengu ; Bonduca, and her two daughters, poison themselves. Jiang() is shot by Judas, whom Carotach kills for the deed : the Romans offer hoixsarable burial for the child, and Caraturl. surrenders. All these incidents happen with an abrupt and almost rldien lons rapidity. We hardly know who the people are, certainly we have no time to contract any regard for them, when suddenly they kill themselves, or perform some such act, which must at ways he the more ludicrous when improbably managed, in pro portion as it is affecting when naturally introduced. The poetry of this Play is almost universally flat and tame, or stubborn and quaint : perhaps the only passage of merit is that in which the High Priest of the Britons, describing the march of Death, utters this most striking line— W ide waves his bickering blade, and tires the fields of air. However, the Play is certainly not without discrimination of character. Caratueh is open and generous; the only fault of his dramatic temper is his want of gallantry to the women, whom he never addresses hut in objurgatory terms. Penius is a plain rough soldier; proud, brave, and gloomy. Petillius is a plain rough soldier; easy, thoughtless, and gay. Junius is a soldier in love. Judas is a soldier, with a touch of cowardice, and a great propensity for eating: this character has a good deal of humour. Bunduca is a bully. in petticoats; a personage cer tainly not agreeable, but if married men tell truth, not quite out of nature. Mrs. St. Leger's figure is rather too large for the Fort of dress which she wears in Bunduca. She would do well to be less fiery in the colours of her attire, and in the tones of her voice. At present she seems a caricature of the Britannias that one sees pAnted upon sign-posts. Mr. Pope's Petillius needs no emen dation: it is at once a spirited and a correct performance. Nor can we too highly praise the Judas of that admirably humonrous actor, Mr. Mundell. His hunger, his drunkenness, his impu dence, his fear, are all equally entertaining and equally true. The other parts are none of them worth much notice, except the Caratach of Mr. Cooke; and the notice that Mr. Cooke re quires in this part, is the notice of his " bad eminence." Hard, harsh, uninterestin7, where he ought to lie generous, afectirg, and noble; he confounded all the principles of his art, and pla)ed ill by the very means that in other parts have caused him to play well. In short, he forgot that Caratach lifting his sword for the safety of his country, was not Shylock sharpening his knife for the execution of the merchant. One instance of this kind of error will suffice; we select the concluding passage of the play, which Mr. Cooke delivers with all the rage of vengeance. The reader needs peruse it but once to perceive that it ought to be delivered with serene magnanimity —" Rome shall know 6 ‘ The firmness of a Briton's soul ; shall know " Britons can brave the chance of war ! If Fortune " Smile on their arms, they spare the vanquisb'd fve ; " Vatiquish'd themselves, in naked majesty, " Like tatir own knotted oak, by thunder blasted, " Nobl y they stand the tempest of their fate. " No s, Roman, lam thine. Set on, I follow. The only object which we can guess to have existed in the re vival of this Play, appears to have been the injury of the Ballet at Drury-Line. it that were the ;motive, lit. is jibtly . ' \ t' 111 ~_,.,,, r 1 ~P L