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Monologue on the Weath of her Royal Highness the

Princess Charlotte.

Recited by Mr. HUNTLEY, at the Opening of the Olympic Theatre, Thursday, Nov. 20, 1817. Written by W. T. MONCRIEFr, Esq.

1

AS some soft star, which, cheering, high, and bright,
Sheds all around a sweetly-guiding light,

Our joyous hope through paths of doubt and gloom,
As slow we journey onwards to the tomb,
Will oft, when most its light seems promise-fraught,
Dart into darkness with the speed of thought,
And leave the pilgrim feet, which bless'd its ray,
To tread their sorrowful despairing way
So CHARLOTTE shone-our beacon, near and far,
So loved, so bless'd-as England's saviour-star
So, at the moment when she beam'd most fair,
Did she too flee, and leave us to despair!

Not Egypt's parents when the black night fled,
Which saw throughout the land their first-born dead,
In punishment for Israel's bondage-yake:

Not they, when first that death-fraught morning broke,
Knew more swift horror, nor more darken'd grief,
Nor felt than wE, more hopeless of relief,

When first we heard her's and our dearest born,

Whose lives we deem'd to kail-were dead-were gone!
Oh! horrible surprize-undreamt of doom!
Our grief will deeper grow through years to come.
Ah! for what hidden purpose was it sent?

Our admonition; or our punishment!
Whate'er it be, 'tis yet the hand of God,

And we, though dire the blow, should kiss the rod !

Yet may we weep her loss, priz'd all too late;
Mourn, though we may not murmur, at her fate;
Soft tears may ease our bosoms through our eyes,
As gentle showers relieve the clouded skies.
Sweet Saint!-We do not mourn in her alone
Our future Queen, our present Princess, gone;
To her, rank seem'd her slightest gift to be,
She'd the mind's rank,-the soul's nobility!

She shunn'd the Court's broad glare, scorn'd Fashion's arts,
Her proudest wish to reign within our hearts!

We mourn her graced beyond the rank of earth;

A denizen of Heav'n, e'en from her birth !

We mourn the pattern of domestic life,

The faithful daughter, and the virtuous wife,
The gentle Mistress, all our hopes could paint;
The Friend, Protectress, Christian-now the Saint!
And she is gone! - Heaven had enamour'd grown
Of what it form'd, and but resum'd its own;

The high, the young, the fair, the good, the wise-
Oh, she was only fitted for the skies!

The generous gified, graceful, mild, and kind—
How memory loves to bring her charms to mind!
In her, pure Virtue's strength was proudly shewn,
She charm'd each jarring feeling into one;
For adverse parties that a world might stir,
Found their best hopes still centering in her.

And so unconscious of her merits, too,

She blush'd to find they charm'd the public view,
Pass'd in her Garden Bowers the live-long day,

Tending her flowers, herself more sweet than they!
With him, her young heart's Lord, her pure heart's choice,
Who only liv'd that prized heart to rejoice,
And make her happiest of her sex below!—
Oh, gallant Stranger! how we feel thy woe!
How bless thy kindness, constancy, and grief,
And vainly wish we could afford relief!
Fond Prince!-long, long, a living witness be
Of CHARLOTTE's wisdom, in her choice of THEE!

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A Lament and Tribute.

"THE WIND PASSETH OVER IT—AND IT IS GONE!"

SHE STOOD ALONE!-like Heaven's Sun above,

At once our hope and light, our joy and love:
She stood alone,-beneath the parent stem,

A plant of beauty, and a nation's gem ;

And she is gone !—a desolation brief

Has made her nothing,-wither'd fallen leaf!

Land of my being !-round thine honour'd brow

Twine the dull cypress with thy laurels now!
Cloud thy proud bearing, and thy kingly shew,
With Melancholy's sable garb of woe;
Gone is the Princess mother,-gone the stem,
She would have left to wear her diadem!

Yet not alone a nation's heart must feel
How great the extent of one vast hour of ill,
The hearts of all, bring as they weep her doom,
One individual tribute to her tomb !

For not alone to mount that honoured throne,
Our hopes had pictured would be once her own-
To wield that sceptre 'neath whose regal sway,
Shine Victory's beams, and Honour sheds its ray:
Form'd not for these alone, did CHARLOTTE rise,
A Star of glory to our dazzled eyes-

But with the virtues which become the Queen,
The meeker charities of life were seen;

Her Court was formed, not of the pomp of state,
The vanities that vapouring Pride calls great;
But soft-eyed Pity,-Humbleness, would dwell
Within that heart, they formed, and loved so well,
Mild Charity, meek Prudence, sisters fair-
Her levee formed, and paid allegiance there :
The pride, and pomp, and circumstance of birth,
Seemed but the weeds, that clog our common earth,
Save, to do good, they gave her queenly powers,
And then they blossom'd that Earth's sweetest flowers,
Forming in CHARLOTTE's heart, and COBOURG's eyes,
An earthly Eden,-mortal paradise!

And it is lost!-the treasured sweets are fled

And Claremont's flowers are fading on the dead!
And all its joys are buried in the cloud

That forms for her a more than mortal shroud!

And Thou, poor wifeless Prince!—what now shall bless

Thee, thou young widower, and fatherless;

Thou her own Prince and Husband! who so well
Practised those virtues thou couldst not excel-
England weeps with thee, and if peace there be
In virtue's tears,-thousands are shed for thee;
And as one heart, the hearts of all, have bled
For thee and her,-the living and the dead!
Oh! but bethink thee that a fairer throne,

Than earth could give thy wife, is CHARLOTTE's Own-
Think that upon her sweet and Queenly brow
A Crown imperishably dazzles now-

A diadem in Heavenly radiance set,

Dimming the glory of Earth's Coronet.

All these are her's,-and let them prove to thee
Immortal antidotes to misery.

Oh! cheer thee then,-and though a Queen and Son

Have passed away, e'en as their course begun,
Like those sweet flowers that rise in splendour bright
Only to shut, and wither with the night,-
Though the proud hope is gone, that hope, of thine
To be the founder of a Kingly line-
Yet hast thou founded now a nation's love
The root is Earth's, its blossom is above-
Then with the Country that adopts thee here
In resignation's sunshine dry the tear.

Woo the sweet hope, that in our utmost need
There is a power can raise the broken reed,
Bow to the GoD of Earth, and Heaven's Sun,
And cry, not ours, but His GREAT WILL BE DONE!

S. W. X. Z.

NOV

THEATRICAL JOURNAL.

DRURY-LANE.

TOV. 24. "Richard III." On Monday, owing to the indisposition of Mr. Kran, Mr. Maywood played the crook-back Tyrant for the first time, this evening, and, according to the bills, on a short notice. The audience was liberal and indulgent, which humane example we shall set before our eyes, and abstain from criticising his Richard.

Nov. 26. "Oroonoko." Mr. Kean continuing ill, Mr. Wallack became bis substitute in the Sable Prince. This play was performed on Wednesday, for the benefit of the family of the late Mr. Raymond, instead of Romeo and Juliet, as originally advertised. The House was crowded to excess, and the receipts satisfactory to every friend to departed worth and merit.

DEC. 2. H. Johnston has appeared in the Duke in the Honey Moon. The interest of the characrer lost nothing in his hands. He entered fully into the eccentric and singular spirit of the noble experimentalist on a wife's patience, and succeeded to the satisfaction of the audience.

DEC. 8. "The Man in the Moon " It takes its name from the Sign of a Public-house not much resorted to, which is likely to be the case with the theatre when the sign is hung out. There is no plot. The first scene, in which Mrs. Alsop caricatured a koydenish country wench, and Knight nearly played up to her in Joey, the serving man of the tavern, was the only tolerable one in the piece: the rest was dull, tiresome, and fatiguing. The best joke was setting these babes in the wood in the stocks; and as nobody could hiss for yawning, the opposition at the finale did not much exceed the applause.

DEC. 9. Murphy's comedy of "Know your own Mind" has been performed with much spirit. This is one of the plays in Murphy's peculiar style; that is to say, a play imitated from a hundred others; but the selection is so good and so amusing, that it is a matter of very little consequence to us, whether they are his own or another's. There was not a man of his day, perhaps, of less original and inventive talent than Murphy-not a man who so little

knew the measure of his own mind, for he had the foily to become the transla tor of Sallust and Tacitus, two of the most condensed and forcible writers of the Romans. Know your own Mind was well performed; and being selected, as we have said, by one who so well understood all the mechanical parts of the stage, no modern comedy is better adapted to actors and actresses. Rae, in the part of Millamour, who is in love with every woman he sees, acted with gaiety and spirit, and was merry without being boisterous and vulgar.Mrs. Alsop, in Lady Bell, shifted herself into all the varieties of her character, as the scene or dialogue required; and however widely different the natural appendages of each, she was in all alike

natural and alike attractive.

DEC. 10. On Wednesday, was performed a very pleasant dramatic ros mance, called Lilliput." It is unnecessary to say, that it is founded on the story of Gulliver, and that the humour is in the contrast between a great man and his little guests. This dramatic piece was written by Garrick about sixty years ago, and was produ ced as a farce upon the occasion of some benefit. The present Managers have re-introduced it, and it is justice to add, that they have found the means of rendering it entertaining. With the single exception of Gulliver, the hero, all the characters are performed by children not exceeding twelve years of age. The audience were amused, and the children were certainly well trained. A child of the name of Dunn sung with a good mock effect "The Soldier tired;" another child imitated Kean, in the tenth scene of Richard the Third.

Mr. Fisher appeared the same evening in the character of Hamlet. Our opinion is, that he is an actor in the first line, but not the first. And it must be added, that tragic actors partake of the nature of the poetry which they have to repeat,-that mediocrity in neither is tolerable, and that both, if not good, are tediously bad. We do not, however, apply this to Mr. Fisher in all its rigour, as his Hamlet was good, and may bear several repetitions. In Richard he wants force, majesty, and variety; he calls up Kean before

us, and then vanishes before him. But in Hamlet he is more within the peculiar sphere both of his natural powers and apparently of his studies. His subdued tones and manner accorded with the character of the scene. His soliloquies were contemplative and soothing. In viewing the mock play he appeared to be absorbed in the passions excited by the analogies of the story His speech to the players was likewise good, and followed the example so admirably given to all succeeding actors by Kemble, that of giving domestic dialogue in the colloquial tone of common life. It is, indeed, amazing, how any one can deviate from a rule of such manifest propriety. In the closet scene he was not less successful, and recalled, to his advantage, the memory of Kemble and Kean in their most splendid parts. Upon the whole, the performance was very satisfactory, and we must congratulate Mr. Fisher upon having made a better selection than that of Richard.

DEC. 11. A new Comic Opera called "Outwitted at Last," which deserves some mention. As far as Miss Cubit, Miss Byrne, Mr. Harley, and Mrs. Alsop were concerned, it was entertaining and well received. Harley is copying by a bad model. He has more grimace than pleasantry; and whilst he acts to the galleries, he loses the applause of

1817.

those who, having been accustomed to a better style of acting, have a better taste. He wants natural pleasantry; and he will always want it, if he so servilely imitates another. Mrs. Alsop always acts well where she does not overact. She has much of the genius and all of the spirit of her mother. Her restless activity keeps the spirits of the audience in the same cheerful motion. She has all the materials of an admirable actress, and we look to her as capable of fully replacing her mother. Oxberry is a good actor, but his compass is narrow, and is evidently too self-sufficient.

Mr. Dowton, as the Commodore, was full of merriment and pleasantry, but his sentiments are too much the common place of the stage. Even this excellent actor carries his action, perhaps, a little too far, and his sea-phrases in Outwitted at Last, were not much relished.

DEC. 15 This evening Mr. Kean made his first appearance, since his indisposition, in the character of Richard the Third. He was greeted with enthusiasin by the audience; and as far as the most spirited performance could vouch for the perfect restoration of his health, we are justified in announcing it to that portion of the public who were not present on the occasion.

PERFORMANCES.

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1817. Dec. 11.

12.

19.

15.

King Richard the Third-Man in the Moon.

16. Outwitted at Last-Lilliput.

17. Ditto-Falls of Clyde.

18.

Riches-Man in the Moon.

19. Outwitted at Last-Lilliput.

20. John Bull-Lilliput.

22. Richard Duke of York, or the Contention of York and Lancaster-Irishman in London.

23. Ditto-No Song no Supper.
24. Christmas Eve-[No performance.]

GARDEN.

Her delicious voice charmed every ear. Her comic powers are not great, though she does prettily enough in this way, what seems to have been taught her in rehearsing. Simplicity, and not archness, is her forte. Fawcett's Whimsicalo, Emery's Peter, Duruset's Lorenzo, and Mrs. Gibbs's Curiosa, are all excellent of their kind; and as for Blanchard's Marquis de Grand Chateau, it is the most perfect personation of an old fop

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