« AnteriorContinuar »
lovers among them; and how they could bear to go had reason to 'say só, for he felt it beat against his jigging about in this gregarious manner, when they fingers, as if it leaped. Dianora, blushing and conmost all wish to be walking two by two in the green fused, though feeling abundantly happy, made another lanes, was to him inexplicable. However, Ippolito movement with her hands as if to remove his own, but was very sincere in his gratitude to Gossip Veronica, he only detained them on either side. « Messer Ippoand even did his best to behave handsomely to her cake lito," said Dianora, in a tone as if to remonstrate, and wine ; and after dinner his virtue was rewarded. though suffering herself to remain a prisoner, “ I fear
It is 'unnecessary to tell the reader, that he must not you must think me”-“ No, no," interrupted Ippolito, judge of other times and countries by his own. The “ you can fear nothing that I think, or that I do. It real fault of those times, as of most others, lay, not in is I that have to fear your lovely and fearful beauty, people's loves, but their hostilities; and if both were which has ever been at the side of my sick bed, and I managed in a way somewhat different from our own, I thought looked angrily upon me-upon me alone of the perhaps neither the loves were less innocent, nor the whole world.” “They told me you had been ill,” hostilities more ridiculous. After dinner, when the said Dia nora in a gentle tone, “and my aunt perhaps other visitors had separated here and there to sleep, I knew that I thought that I have you been very ill?” Dianora, accompanied by her aunt and Veronica, found And without thinking, she drew her left hand from herself, to her great astonishment, in the same room under his, and placed it upon it. “ Very," answered with Ippolito; and a few minutes after their introduction | Ippolito; do not I look so ? and saving this, he raised to each other, and after one had looked this way, und his other hand, and venturing to put it round to the left the other that, and one taken up a book and laid it down side of her little dimpled chin, 'turned her face towards again, and both looked out of the window, and each him. Dia nora did not think he appeared so ill, by a blushed, and either turned pale, and the gentleman good deal, as he did in the church ; but there was adjusted his collar, and the lady her sleeve, and the enough in his face, ill or well, to make her eyesight elder ladies had whispered one another in a corner, swim as she looked at him; and the next moment her Dianora, less to her astonishment than before, was left head was upon his shoulder, and his lips descended, in the room with him alone, She made a movement as welcome, upon hers. if to follow them, but Ippolito said something she knew There was a practice in those times, generated, like not what, and she remained. She went to the window, other involuntary struggles against wrong, by the ablooking very serious and pale, and not daring to glance surdities in authority, of resorting to marriages, or towards him. He intended instantly to go to her; rather plightings of troth, made in secret, and in the and wondered wbat had become of his fierce impatience; eye of heaven. It was a custom liable to great abuse, but the very delay had now something delicious in it. | as all secrecies are ; but the harm of it, as usual, fell Oh, the happiness of those moments! oh, the sweet chiefly on the poor, or where the condition of the parties morning time of those feelings! the doubt which is not was unequal. Where the families were powerful and doubt, and the hope which is but the coming of cer on an equality, the hazard of violating the engagement tainty! Oh, recollections enough to fill faded eyes was, for obvious reasons, very great, and seldom en.. with tears of renovation, and to make us forget we are | countered ; the lovers either foregoing their claims on. no longer young, the next young and innocent beauty each other upon better acquaintance, or adhering to we behold! Why do not sueh hours make us as immortal their engagement the closer for the same reason, or as they are divine ? Why are we not carried away, | keeping it at the expense of one or the other's repenliterally, into some place where they can last for ever, tance for fear of the consequences. The troth of lppo. leaving those who miss us to say, “ they were capable lito and Dianora was indeed a trotli. They plighted it of loving, and they are gone to heaven!"
on their knees, before a picture of the Virgin and Child, . We left our two lovers, madam, standing in Signora in Veronica's bed-room, and over a mass-book which Veronica's bed-chamber, one at the window, the other lay open upon a chair. Ippolito then, for the pleasure of at a little distance. They remained in this situation revenging himself of the pangs he suffered when Diaabout the same space of time in which we have been nora knelt with him before, took up the mass-book and talking. Oh! bow impossible it is to present to our. held it before her, as she had held it before him, and selves two grave and happy lovers trembling with the looked her entreatingly in the face; and Dianora took approach of their mutual confessions, and not feel a and held it with him as before, trembling as then, but graver and happier sensation than levity resume its | with a perfect pleasure ; and Ippolito kissed her twice place in one's thoughts!
and thrice out of a sweet revenge. Ippolito went up to Dianora. She was still looking The thoughtless old ladies, Donna Lucrezia and the out of the window, her eyes fixed upon the blue moun. other (for old age is not always the most considerate tains in the distance, but conscious of nothing outside thing in the world, especially the old age of one's aunts the room. She had a light green and gold net on her and gossips) had now returned into the room where head, which enclosed her luxuriant hair without vio. they left the two lovers ; but not before Dianora had lence, and seemed as if it took it up that he might consented to receive her bridegroom in her own apart. admire the white deck underneath. She felt his breath ment at home, that same night, by means of that other upon it; and beginning to expect that his lips would old good-natured go-between, yclept a ladder of ropes. follow, raised her hands to her head, as if the net re The rest of the afternoon was spent, according to quired adjusting. This movement; while it disconcerted laudable custom, in joining in the diversions of the him, presented her waist in a point of view so impossi- peasantry. They sung, they danced, they eat the ble not to touch, that taking it gently in both his hands, grapes that hung over their heads, they gave and took he pressed one at the same time upon her heart, and jokes and flowers, they flaunted with all their colours said, “ It will forgive me, even for doing this." He in the sun, they feas ed with all their might under the
, A SKETCH. “ Th. man of feeling, wrapt in memory's veil."
T. K. HERTBY.
There is a calmpess of absorbing thonght,
Upon her beautiful and open brow;
Its inspiration from the heart below;
And yet a passion dwells withiu her mind, Could we but look into that heart, 'twould shew
How Mem'ry, fond affectiou's wreath hath twined Around the chords of Love, for ever there enshrined.
Look on her changing cheek, and thou wilt trace,
The bright tints of affection, lingering still, Which time hath weaken'd but cannot efface;
Betraying feelings which too often fill The eye with tears of fond regret, and will
Whilst life remains, for often shall the past, Live o'er again and make ber bosom thrill:
'I ho' future scenes be fair, and hours fiy fast, One thought will yet remain, all others to outlast.
head gently, at the same time forcing a smile, which glittered through his watery eyes. At that instant the trumpet blew its dreary blast for the second time. Dianora had already risen on her couch, listening, and asking what noise it was that approached. Her aunt endeavoured to quiet her with her excuses ; but this last noise aroused her beyond controul; and the good old lady, forgetting herself in the condition of the two lovers, no longer attempted to stop her. “Go," said she, “ in God's name, my child, and Heaven be with you."
Dianora, her hair streaming, her eye without a tear, her cheek on fire, burst, to the astonishment of her kindred, into the room where they were all standing. She tore them aside from one of the windows with a preternatural strength, and, stretching forth her head and hands, like one inspired, cried out, “ Stop! stop! it is my Ippolito! my husband !” And, so saying, she actually made a movement as if she would have stepped to him out of the window; for every thing but his image faded from her eyes. A movement of confusion took place among the multitude. Ippolito stood rapt on the sudden, trembling, weeping, and stretching his hands towards the window, as if praying to his guardian angel. The kinsmen would have prevented her from doing any thing further; but, as if all the gentleness of her character was gone, she broke from them with violence and contempt, and rushing down stairs into the street, exclaimed, in a frantic manner, “ People! Dear God! Countrymen! I am a Bardi; he " is a Buondelmonte ; he loved me; and that is the "whole crime!" and, at these last words, they were locked in each other's arms.
The populace now broke through all restraint. They stopped the procession; they bore Ippolito back again to the seat of the magistracy, carrying Dianora with him; they described in a peremptory manner the mistake; they sent for the heads of the two houses; they made them swear a treaty of peace, amity, and unity; and in half an hour after the lover had been on the road to his death, he set out upon it again, the acknowledged bridegroom of the beautiful creature by his side.
Never was such a sudden revulsion of feeling given to a whole city. The women who had retreated in anguish, came back the gayest of the gay. Every body plucked all the myrtles they could find, to put into the hands of those who made the former procession, and who now formed a singular one for a bridal; but all the young women fell in with their white veils; and instead of the funeral dirge, a song of thanksgiving was chaunted. The very excess of their sensations enabled the two lovers to hold up. Ippolito's cheeks, which seemed to have fallen away in one night, appeared to have plumped out again faster; and if he was now pale instead of high coloured, the paleness of Dianora had given way to radiant blushes which inade up for it. He looked, as he ought, like the person saved ? she, like the angelic saviour.
Thus the two lovers passed on, as if in a dream tumultuous but delightful. Neither of them looked on the other; they gazed hither and thither on the crowd, as if in answer to the blessings that poured upon them; but their hands were locked fast; and they went like one soul in a divided body.
“ Man never is, but always to be blest."-So Pope said; but he, as everybody knows, was a cynical, satiri. cal, critical, crooked little fellow. On the other hand, Le Sage-or somebody else-has said, “the man is happy who thinks himself so," and as every man likes to think of that which he ļs pleased to feed his thoughts withal, be it for us to set the world right on a point so important, and to enlighten the uphappy wretches whom the above line of Pope has plunged into the depths of despair.' • We will insist then, and for which we expect all mankind will thank us, that “ we will address ourselves where we ever seek for approbation, to joy-creating, a'miable, and lovely woman.
And first we ask the inexperienced girl to prove our own experience correct-if her lover is not ever blest in thinking her a divinity (as she is) when she vouchsafes to smile upon his protestations of truth, rapture, and eternal constancy? Or, should her tire-women have misplaced a curl-her parrot be too sullen to learn the last new chanson amoureuse, or her milliner have mistaken her directions—and in consequence, she herself finds it impossible to tolerate even a lover's importunities, still is he not as delightfully miserable as heart could wish? Does he not enjoy in idea the revenge he determines to take; call up the imaginary delights he shall realize in resenting the unmerited slights he has received; and after all the extacies engendered by a high fever and re-resolved resolves, does he find himself -after all these joyous wanderings of the brain-one jot less happy on finding himself on the very first opportunity, at the feet of his divinity, basking in her smiles? “Ever blest,” he marries; and happy as he was before, we ask the wife if he is not more happy now? Perhaps, a little too much of the lemon may be occasionally squeezed into the matrimonial punch; bal, this prevents its becoming mawkish to the taste, and occasions besides, the draught to be more enjoyed when both parties are agreed on dispensing with its acidity:
Then, there is the inexpressible delight of what may
THE FEELING HEART. be best understood by teazing—a pleasure which the
A PACT. marriage-blest themselves can only appreciate. If the wife, who we are free to admit, never can be wrong, will be out when her lord had expected she would have
Miss Sensibilla as hier tears were flowing
At the distresses of a fictious Tale, remained at home; does not the husband torment him
Sighed o'er her Novel, all her praise bestowing self with the most amusing conjectures imaginable ?
Upon the feeling heart of NANCY VALE. He resolves to accept the Chiltern hundreds and vacate “ She," cried the ardent fair, “ a heart possessing, his seat in parliament-philosophizes on the follies of a
“ In pity to her Linnet braved the storm ; town life, and resolves to repair his fortune and what
“ Her heart was like my own!-Oh! what a blessing!
“ To have a heart that would not hurt a worm !" he jócularly calls the frailties of his wife, by a fixed
Just then a Fly apon her book descended, retirement in the country. The very idea delights him,
Which caught the sympathetic Fair one's ege; which imagination, to enhance his satisfaction, converts
But then--just then her pity was expended, into a reality. He is already in the old manor house
Sbe squeezed its life oit, crying « Curse the Fly!” surrounded by “innocence and rusticity," pigs, cows, cocks and hens. He is awakened by the cawing of rooks in the country, at the hour when well-plucked
FLOWERS. pigeons are crawling to their rest in town. He hears the fails loudly rapping on the barn-floor, and delighted at the sound, starts up and has the happiness
Go turn our windows into bowers,
'Till the streets break forth in flowers. of proving it was but the rap of his lady's footman at the hall door—the usual compliments of the morning
I love to think that Nature and good-nature are sy. are mutually exchanged; they retire for the "night."
nonymous. Calamity, to be sure, has an awkward
appearance: War looks very much as if we had not ar. “To sleep, perchance to dream.”
rived at years of discretion, and Death is an usher to What says the experienced Widow to our assertion ?
another world not as handsome as he might be. But, Why, that she fully assents to it we are certain, in the
to say nothing of the improvements that might be made most unqualified sense: she knows full well that the
in these points, if we tried, or the hidden reasons that man is “ ever blest” upon whom she smiles ; and a con may exist for retaining them, if unimproveable, it is the stant smile is therefore on her face that it may gladden
part of a wise man to divest evil of its malignity ; to all she meets. She is an able diplomatist in the
regard it as the senseless though stubborn material, ministry of love, and has not unfrequently merely her which Nature does all she can to animate into good. own affairs in hand, but also the management of diffi
There is nothing to prove the contrary: there is much cult arrangements on the behalf of her less politic to show that this is the more logical opinion; there is friends. The prudent Widow is a sort of co-partner
every thing to show that it is the wiser, the humaner, ship agent of Love and Hymen; and while she diffuses
and the more hopeful one. around, her knowledge for the happiness of society,
Among other beautiful things, flowers appear to be she resolves ere she again marries—as she is sure to
made on purpose to please us. Nature adorns her do—that the man she intends thus to honour shall
tresses with their lovely colours, like a lady issuing know the full value of her condescension, by witness. forth to charm our eyesight. It is possible, that coing, first, the attractive power of her charms. Lastly,
lours have an utility, of which we have no conception. we appeal to amiable spinsters of a certain age, if it
The serious bee, if not the gay butterfly, may know be possible for mankind to be happier than they are
more of that matter than we do. But to us, pink, when they themselves are present? It is true that they
white and green, are clearly of no use but to delight; have not (alas the pity!) made any one swain as happy
and Nature seems to take a particular pleasure in as he might have been; but then how many scores showing us, that an innocent delight is a main part of have each of these single ladies made happy in hope ?
utility. She persists in wearing colours of some sort Not a heart that they have broken would have ex all the year round, Her wintery skies have their beario changed the extacies of its pain for the most fascinating ties of light and shade; her snow is a feathery curiosity : of vulgar pleasures : and even now the phalanx of
her summer rain is silver. cynical old bachelors, whom they once left to sigh in
I once sat looking at meadows full of daisies and an agony of inexpressible delight, still enjoy them
buttercups, in company with a Quaker. It was on the selves and are happy-in railing at the whole sex.
bench that stands midway, in the lane going froin Maidenhood is besides, always young and girlish; | Hampstead to West-End. He sat down beside me, and and, at the period to which we allude, can always feel
appeared to take possession of the scene before him, a peculiar pleasure in running over the lengthy list of
with such an impudent tranquility, that I felt inclined discarded lovers of by-gone days. In short, all we
to ask him, what right he had with that coat on, to contend for, is, that everybody is always happy whether
admire the gorgeous colours he was looki ig at. But their pleasure consists in worrying themselves and I knew the overwhelming reasons which he would their friends to death, or otherwise, that Pope him
think he gave me, and was malicious enough not to inself was pleased to say the very reverse, for which, as
dulge him in the more insolent meekness of his reply. no lady pitied him, he pined in a delightful despair.
I contented myself, like a proper polemic, with admiring He became a satirist, from a good natured spite, and
the better religion of my own coat and trowsers. we defy any blockhead to shew that satire is not
Next to writing an epic poem, or a code of laws that pleasing-save only to the objects of it.
should better the world, or being the author of the Tempest, or the Aruvian Nights, or the Rape of the Lock, or the poem of Ariosto, or twenty other works | The writer of the “ Flora Domestica," a very excel. which are the delight of mankind, there are few things lent work on the Treatment of Flowers in Pots, &c. I would sooner be the author of than a book which cul. acquaints us with the whimsical manner in which tivates the love of flowers. The modest benificence of Anemones were first introduced amongst the public, in my ambition may be scorned by the uninitiated; but I the following anecdote. beg to learn, what is the end of all their own labours “ The Abbé la Pluche relates a curious anecdote of and mighty enterprises,-if they have any. Doubtless, M. Bachelier, a Parisian florist, who having imported nothing but the comforts and little enjoyments of the some very beautiful species of the Anemone from the individuals who compose society. Codes of laws end East Indies to Paris, kept them to himself in so miserly but in these. Sovereignty and legislation, through all a manner, that for ten successive years he would never their grandeur, look only, or profess to look, to our give to any friend or relation whomsoever the least shoes and firesides. The mightiest operation of the fibre of a double Anemone, or the root of one single great engines of power, the noblest climax which it one. A counsellor of the Parliament, vexed to see one attains to,—the wonderful residium it deposits, is a man hoard up for himself a benefit which nature intend. quartern loaf. Are the elegances that adorn these ed to be common to all, paid him a visit at his country loaves and firesides nothing? Lord Bacon did not think house; and in walking round the garden, when he came so, when he had the flowers in season regularly put to a bed of his Anemonies, which were at that time in upon his table. The “great Condé" was a cultivator
seed, artfully let his robe fall upon them; by which of tulips. And great spirits are as capable now-a-days device he swept off a considerable number of the little of these gentler evidences of their superiority. “ Among grains, which stuck fast to it. His servant, whom he the existing lovers of flowers, it is a pleasure to be able had purposely instructed, dexterously wrapped them up to name the gallant and accomplished young prince, in a moment, without exciting any attention. The Alexander Mavrocordato, one of the chief leaders of the counsellor, a short time after, communicated to his Greeks in their late glorious struggle for freedom. friends the success of his project; and by their partiA botanical work, not long since published in Italy, is
cipation of his innocent theft, the flower became genededicated to him on account of his known fondness for rally known.” the subject.” A satirical poet once told me, that none but the effeminate cultivated a love of music. The observation was the harder, inasmuch as he was effemi. nate himself, and not musical. I had the pleasure of
THE FIRST-BORN. annihilating him on the spot with the names of Luther,
Alaric A: Watts. Frederic the Second, Milton, Alfred, and Epaminondas.
Never did music sink into my soul It is not the love of any thing gentle and graceful, but So“ silver sweet,' as when thy first weak wail the absorption in it, and the sacrifice of a wider spirit
On my 'rapt ear in doubtful murmurs stole, of action, that constitutes effeminacy. Generally
Thou child of love and promise !-- What a tale
Of hopes and sears, of gladness and of gloom, speaking, individuals would be so much the better, the
Hung on that slender filament of sound! more they loved flowers. A flower is something to
Lite's guileless pleasures, and its griefs profound nurse; it is next to something to love. The pleasure
Seemed mingling in thy horoscope of doom. of it is communicable to others.
Thy bark is launched, and lifted is thy sail
Upon the weltering billows of the world; There is an observation of Sir William Temple, that
But oh! may winds far gentler than have hurled the care of flowers is “ more the ladies' part than the My struggling vessel on, for thee prevail : men's.” I have only pleased myself, says he, “ with
Or, if thy voyage must be rough, -mayst thou seeing or smelling them.” Very lofty and candid!
Soon scape the storm and be-as blest as I am now ! This is the way of our lords of the creation. The ladies are to do all that is graceful and proper, and we are to condescend to be pleased. However, in this in
THE DRAMA. stance, the distinction may be allowed, provided there are ladies or gardeners enough to be had. Sir William was fortunate enough to have both. Bachelors English Theatricals are in a miserably declining and poorer men must be content, like Gray, to cultivate state. One of our patent Theatres (Covent Garden) is their own window-full. It is observable, by the way, deserted by its company, and the other, in spite of the that Sir William Temple, though content with patroniz efforts of one of the finest actresses in the world, suping flowers in others, and bending himself so far as to ported by performers of no mean reputation, is only enjoy them, took an active part in the administration of holding out a little longer than its apparently less forthe eatable provinces of his garden. Nothing comes tunate competitor. amiss to him, fruit or vegetable; but fruits are the We had intended to have said a few words on the main thing,-gentlemanly peaches, and patrician vines. declining state of theatricals, but from the quantity of He boasts of having “ had the honour of bringing over other matter we must postpone our observations to a four sorts of grapes into England.” It was a good subsequent number. action; but what mighty and lofty difference there is The King's THEATRE is we may say at its zenith. between the dissemination of a love for the visible There is here congregated first-rate talent, both in the beauties of nature, and the extension of a little further musical and ballèt departments. The Italian Cho. tickling of our palates, is a question which may be left russes are not so effective as we would wish. him to settle in the Elysian Fields with Titian, or the Madame Pasta performed Medea for the benefit of fields themselves.
Donzelli, as usual, with the most impressive effect, The exquisite feeling and tenderness which Rubini | The Covent Garden Company has taken a wise step, infuses into his performances, render him an acquisis and we should blush for our nationality, if the greattion in those characters which pourtray the tender est City in Europe does not by over-crowded houses emotions of the soul : Donzelli with a voice naturally and spirited co-operation, evince that it is not entirely better, is not so skilful in the management of it.. lost to the appreciation and encouragement of native
Madame Pasta in Tancredi was eminently great. | talent. They commenced with Sheridan Knowles' The exquisite feeling, commanding gesture, and impe “ Wife," which was better relished than on any former tuous passion, displayed in her acting, shone conspicu occasion, as it was seen and heard to greater advantage, ously; nor had her execution of “ Di tanti palpiti" from the less size of the theatre. lost in brilliancy, by a comparison with our former Adelphi.- English Opera Company.—Among the recollections. Cinti Damoreau ably supported this recent novelties here, has been a two act Melo-drama sublime actress as Amenaide. Her execution of the manufactured expressly for Reeve, and we must say it various airs was most effective, and full of exquisite has been made to fit with great exactness. Miss sweetness. Rubini as Argiro was deservedly well Kelly takes a part in it;-need we say more? We are received, the part of Arbazzano was creditably per aware that plot and probability are quite secondary formed by Zuchelli, and on the whole the Opera was matters in these dramas, made to measure, but surely extremely well got up.
plot and probability are not altogether to be neglected. The house was well and fashionably attended.
Such authors however generally think otherwise. · Taglioni backed by a very clever Ballet Company, Reeve was there as a Razor Grinder in another such delights the frequenters of the Opera, with her sylph | affair, afterwards brought out. At the conclusion he like elegance and grace. We are really sorry that the begged to be pardoned for “ this infernal nonsense,” elastic foot of this graceful dancer should be able to he has our absolution, on condition that he will not save her father's ill-constructed ballet, from the critical repeat the offence. extinguisher, but his daughter's feet say, as plainly as | For the unavoidable omission of several notices of feet can speak, “ Spare the Ballet, for we have a com- theatres, whose managers are strenuous in their exermon parent."
sions to please the public taste, we beg to apologise, The appeal is irresistible.
hoping that we may have much to say in their favour DRURY LANE.—Madame Malibran, the accomplished in our next; and though the theatrical horizon is at actress, and finished vocalist, is the chief attraction present clouded, we look forward, with a degree of here, but even her extraordinary abilities fail to bring cheerful anticipation, to the prospect of brighter days. sufficient returns to the management. She has seldom been seen to greater advantage than in Bellini's Opera of La Sonnambula in which she took the principal character, Amina. Her reception has been most flat
EVENING. tering, and the audience expressed their delight with a warmth of applause but rarely witnessed. It may be
The day declines-again the dappled fawns, mentioned as a testimony (if any were needed) of the
Timidly starting, leave the cool retreat,
And bounding o'er the daisy-painted lawns, talents of Madame Malibran, that altho' the house
Affright the lev'ret from her furry seat. was not otherwise very well attended, nearly all the great musical talent in the metropolis were present to
In murky clouds, and cawing as they fly, witness her performance. Amongst others, we recog
The sable rooks explore the distant wood,
And reach, ere coming darkness veils the sky, nized Pasta, Cinti Damoreau, Schroeder Devrient,
· Their callow young, impatient of their food. Mrs. Wood, Miss Shirref, Miss Romer, Paganini, Hummel, Braham, Saml. Wesley, I. B. Cramer, and most of
The gen'rous steed, his daily labour done, the talented members of the Glee Club.
Aud loosen'd from the plough, his stall regains;
From ledge to hedge the calling coveys run, Madlle. Taglioni and a party occupied one of the
And the gay pheasant quits the chilly plains. private boxes.
Till wrapt in silence awfully profound, We did not estimate Malibran's Count Bellino so
In dewy sleep the whole creation's bound. highly. This however we are willing to attribute in some measure to the early associations which have identified the Count with our native Braham. That dramatic though somewhat absurd song, “ Fancy's
SAYINGS & DOINGS OF THE PAST MONTH. Sketch" seemed to give most general pleasure, and was loudly applauded and encored. At the conclu Mr. Ballantine the other day admonished a publicsion of the Opera, she appeared leading Miss Betts, house keeper for “ encouraging young thieves in a having been rapturously called for to receive the con skittle-ground ;" a short time since magisterial ven. gratulations of a highly gratified audience. .
geance was hotly denounced against a theatrical concern The Olympic has opened her' gates to the discarded on a penny scale, because it tended to encourage young Sons and Daughters of Thespis, who hitherto displayed juvenile vagrants-to what?—to steal from the wealthy their talents to the unadmiring and empty benches of frequenters !—we warrant the expert young rogues have Covent Garden, as long as Laporte thought fit to ex- | more discrimination than to attempt diving into the haust his treasury, and shew the English nation how pockets of such neighbours.—But then (say the magisinfinitely the public prefer the impertinencies of French trates) the rascals will be actually amused in such Farce Writers, and the mechanical dexterities of our | places.-Horrible suggestion ! continental neighbours to the Comedies of our native We would say, let alone their amusements, check their dramatists, or the inspirations of Shakespeare.