LIPS AND EYES. IN Celia's face a question did arise, "From us,” replied the lips, "proceed those blisses, Whereat the lips, mov'd with delight and pleasure, J. S. EPIGRAM ON THE TWO STATUES ERECTED ON THE NEW COVENT-GARDEN THEATRE. 1 WITH steady mien, unalter'd eye, The Muses mount the pile, Melpomene disdains to cry, Thalia scorns to smile. Pieria's spring when moderns quaff, 'Tis plainly meant to show That Comedy provokes no laugh, And Tragedy no woe! J.` MEMORANDA DRAMATICA. 1809. NEW THEATRE-ROYAL, COVENT-GARDEN. Sept. 18. Macbeth.-The Quaker.* * With these entertainments the managers opened their new theatre, which for purity of taste and classical splendour and magnificence, is, and has ever been in modern times, without an equal. No meretricious ornaments are here seen to dazzle and divert the eye unseasonably-all the chaste embellishments being, with surprising skill and judgment, kept under, and made subservient to the grand and superb effect of the whole. The short time elapsed, since the former theatre was a heap of burning ruins, makes the present edifice appear to partake more of magic than of human art. Within a little year, there stood a pile, Whose grisly top Belch'd fire and rolling smoke Thither wing'd with speed, A numerous brigade hasten'd: as when bands Who boast in mortal things, and wond'ring tell Rose like an exhalation. Th' ascending pile Stood fix'd her stately height, and straight the doors Within ✦ Some inconveniences and blemishes, however, are certainly observable, and they will be noted in our description of the exterior and interior. Quoted by particular desire of Mr. Larpent. Y VOL, VI. Within her ample spaces o'er the smooth Admiring enter'd, and the work some praise, So far we may travel with our mighty poet, but here we must stop. The progress and the lustre of Pandemonium well represent this erection, and all the demons, inhabitants of that abode of the damned, best describe the audience that filled the new theatre on the first night. Before two o'clock the house was besieged, and at five the doors were through necessity thrown open. Some boxes were occupied by those who had previously taken them, but numbers were stormed, and taken by a coup de main. The theatre was entirely full by six o'clock, but at half past five there were not more than thirty or forty persons in the pit. The first female that entered was cheered with huzzas-not above a dozen appeared in that part of the house during the whole of the night. They were also very sparingly scattered in the boxes, which of course deprived the tout ensemble of many charms. Quiet admiration of this wonderful structure, raised in ten months from the laying of the foundation, continued with little interruption till the band struck up, God save the King, which was repeated several times during a great shout of song, song! The song was sung, but no thing heard of it, except the drum accompaniment. Vast applause, with twirling of hats, and waving of handkerchiefs, succeeded. Rule Britannia was next played, and then the curtain drawing up, Mr. Kemble dressed for Macbeth, came forward to deliver an address. Now the gods rolled their thunder of applause, which was answered by the groans and hooting of the pit— The hollow abyss Heard far and wide, and all the host of hell With deaf'ning shout return'd them loud acclaim. Even those who wished well to the cause, and longed to know the purport of the address, cried hear him, hear him! so vociferously, that it must have been utterly impossible for him even to hear himself. Af ter going through the address,* he seemed to us two or three times to es , say * A copy of this address shall be preserved. The following fine climax, and exquisite point, smack strongly of the wit of one of our " na tive say a repetition of it-no single word, however, could reach our ears, although we were within four boxes of the stage. A paper was handed to him from the pit, which he would have read, but finding it useless, he retired, and the play began. The tumult in a degree commenced immediately, but its object did not declare itself, until Mr. Kemble's appearance, At which the host (or hostile) up sent A shout that tore hell's concave, and beyond Such was his reception, in particular, throughout the whole of the piece, and the same compliment was liberally, and with some marks of distinction, paid to Mrs. Siddons, in Lady Macbeth, and Mr. C. Kemble, in Macduff. This hissing, groaning, yelling, howling, braying, hooting, barking, and every sort of human and inhuman utterance, with such marks of contempt as the whole pit standing up with their backs to the stage, were accompanied by these exclamations-Old price, no rise !--No Catalani !—No seven-shilling pieces !—No robbery! &c. This infernal din of horrid discords lasted throughout Macbeth, of which we, situated as we have described, could not distinctly hear one word-more exquisite dumb show, however, we never witnessed. Mr. Kemble's majestic action was not lost, though his words were. In the daggersccne, in the scene with Lady Macbeth after the murder, and at the banquet, he was most powerful, grand, and impressive. The scenery and decorations consist with the style of the building, and we can add nothing to such an eulogy. Mr. Brunton came forward at the end of the play, to announce, as we suppose, the entertainments of the succeeding night. This, however, is mere conjecture—his lips moved, and his tive poets," ycleped Tom Dibdin; alluding to the origin of splendid scenes, he says "Rome caught the sparks from Greece; improv'd the plan; At last the flame through modern Europe ran. Our scene now decks, in an illumin'd age, And may the stage that boasts him, BURN no more! A Pope, a Johnson, or even a Garrick, would have prepared something more worthy of the occasion-the above is altogether infra dig. his legs soon followed their example, and they were equally intelligible. The farce of the Quaker shared the fate of Macbeth, and passed away, to those who had never heard it, in inexplicable dumb show. The amusements on the stage were over about eleven o'clock, but those before the curtain continued till one. The cry of Managers!—Old prices! and violent kicking against the orchestra, brought Messrs. Read and Nares, two of the Bow-street magistrates, on the stage, who attempted in vain to address the mob; we will not say audience, for such they never were. It was in their part either to read or sing the riot act, but they were perpetually interrupted with " Off, off-no magistrates— send the managers--John Kemble, come forth." The galleries too began to complain, and roared out-" They would not be confined in pigeonholes." At length having lashed themselves into a little madness, some of them cried, "Go it--go it! dowse the glims!" that is, in less choice English, put out the lights. This was followed by breaking some seats in the upper boxes, when four of the leaders were secured by the Bowstreet officers. The magistrates now left the stage amidst hisses and groans, with the cry of—“ Let them put their prices on a board---that will satisfy us-we don't want to see the swindlers !” No board appearing, and the managers having through the magistrates signified that they declined coming forward, the rioters, about the time mentioned, (after singing God save the King, and Rule Britannia,) quitted the field, covered with all the glory of conquest, which encircles the brows of VisCOUNT TALAVERA! The English love novelty and show, without much judgment and discrimination in the choice. Something splendid-something new is foremost in their desires. Managers know this, and being anxious to obtain their favour, are, like Lord Townly, willing "to feed even their very follies to deserve it." Exerting themselves thus prudently, if not very laudably, and fooling Mr. BULL, to the top of his bent, and we believe much to his satisfaction, if he would confess the fact, we think they are not justly treated by his butting and roaring. Novelty he will have, and at a vast expence they engage Catalani, &c. Lustrous splendour is their delight, and behold at what a rate (both of money and time) they have reared the luminous and noble fabric, which now honours and adorns the metropolis of England. If he will call for these luxuries, he must pay for them. Under all the oppressive circumstances of the times, the rise of the Pit from three shillings and sixpence to four shillings, and of the Boxes from six to seven shillings, while the Galleries remain at the old prices, is in our opinion a thing not to be complained of by generous and considerate minds. Still we are not prepared to say that the act is not impolitic in the proprietors, for we are much inclined to think that it will not ultimately prove so productive as if there had been no variation, |