1826.] 



Monthly Theatrical Report. 



535 



night for a grand rehearsal, and to this a 

 wjioie multitude of the J^i/ellanti were in- 

 vited by cards. Nothirg oould be more in- 

 judicious tlian this aristocratic prei)arative. 

 All the world knows tluit the sight of a 

 rehearsal is of all things the most direct 

 contrivance for destroying all interest in 

 the true representation : actore and ac- 

 tresses, in their every-day clothes, moving 

 about in the strong ligiit of the stage, and 

 in the strong contrast of tiie high-coloured 

 stage scenery, alternately giving tlie idea of 

 corpses and mendicants ; generally forget- 

 ting their parts (a kind of stage etiquette on 

 these occasions), and always going through 

 their recitation without emjihasis or action, 

 the whole being, intentionally, of the least 

 impressive nature possible. At this disas- 

 trous exhibition a number of persons of the 

 highest rank in society and in literature were 

 summoned to be present ; the result was, 

 beyond all question, a feeling of weariness, 

 discontent, and disajipointment. None of 

 the music seemed striking; nothing of the 

 drama seemed eflfective ; the acting, of 

 course, went for worse than nothing, and 

 the scene-painter carried off the applause. 



The rehearsal, if made public at all, should 

 have been strictly in full dress. Braham's 

 diurnal cheeks sliould have been compelled 

 to wear rouge, and his diurnal limbs should 

 have been clotlied in the steel pantaloons 

 which have since made him the most glit- 

 tering and overloaded of all knights and 

 lovers. 



Miss Paton should have been docked of 

 her bonnet and petticoat, for their more 

 superb substitutions, in the shape of turban 

 aiid trowsers. I'he otiier performers, 

 Cooper, Miss Lacy, and their subordinates, 

 should have had a general clotiiing and 

 washing. Thus the noble Dilettanti would 

 Lave been won ; Lord Burghersh would 

 not have triumjihed in his anticipated vic- 

 tory over Von Weber ; tlie Lord Chamber- 

 lain would not have spent liis valuable 

 evening in ya^Tiing; and Lord Mary- 

 borough would not have defrauded his pil- 

 low, and gone to sleep instantly after the 

 overtiu-e. 



The opera itself succeeded on the night 

 of public representation, and has been con- 

 stantly performed since. It has all that 

 ability in the performers and pomp in the 

 scenery can give. The story is but slightly 

 changed from that of Wieland's poem. 



Sir Huon of Bourdeaux, a knight of the 

 court of Charlemagne, having accidentally 

 killed the emperor's son, is condemned to 

 die ; but respited on condition of his per- 

 forming the presumed impossibility of 

 bringing back to France three of the Caliph 

 of Bagdad's teeth, a lock of his beard, and 

 his daughter ! Sir Huon sets out, encoun- 

 ters adventures by the way, enters the pa- 

 lace, is fallen in love with by the princess, 

 and finally accomplishes all his purposes by 

 the help of Oberon, the fairy king, who had 

 given him a magic horn, whose sound sets 

 every one either asleep or dancing. 



The dialogue has been blamed as feeble 

 and trivial ; but what can be done with dia- 

 logue which must be modified by tiie music ; 

 cut up and broken into a thousand frag- 

 ments, according to the necessities of songs 

 and scene-shifters. To throw spirit or con- 

 tinuity into matters of this species, is totally 

 beyond the power of a «Titer ; Mr. Planche, 

 if he has gained nothing in his reputation as 

 an adaptor, has certainly a right to liavc lost 

 nothing as an author. 



The music of Oberon has given no increase 

 of fame to Von Weber. It has the science, 

 depth, and variety of the German school; 

 but it wants the brilliancy and fresh vigour 

 of the Freyschutz. If it had been Mr. Von 

 Weber's first work, it would have been de- 

 clared to show knowledge without genius ; 

 but the Frcyscliutz has put the genius of its 

 composer beyond a doubt, and has done 

 enough to redeem a dozen Oberons. The 

 present opera lias undoubtedly fallen sliort 

 of the public expectation. 



The sum paid to the composer is said to 

 have been immense ; the whole expense to 

 the theatre is probably not much below four 

 thousand pounds ! It is impossible to avoid 

 regretting that this enormous risk was not 

 directed to the encouragement of our na- 

 tional drama — properly applied, it might 

 have produced half a dozen comedies, any 

 one of which would have been more jiro- 

 fitable than this opera, and might have been 

 the beginning of a series of renewed triumphs 

 of the stage. 



The King's Theatre has at length com- 

 menced its real season. Hitherto it had been 

 retarded by the absence of the chief syren ; 

 but Pasta has arrived, and all is henceforth 

 to be profit and popularity. It will require 

 a vast deal of both to p.iy for the sjTen ; 

 for she demands thousands of pounds, with 

 the ease of a financier of the first magni- 

 tude. 



A beautiful ballet. La Naissance de Ve- 

 nus, has been brought out by D'Eg\Mlle, 

 after infinite delays. It is popular. The 

 house is fashionable ; and we hope Mr. 

 Ebers will be rewarded for his zeal in the 

 public sernce. 



Mathews, at the English Opera, conti- 

 nues his performance to ftiU audiences. The 

 actor's personal pleasantry is altogether su- 

 perior to that of his present entertaintnent, 

 which is chiefly founded on the feeble idea 

 of giving an account of the persons and 

 parties to which he receives invitations. We 

 do not en\'>' him his acquaintance, if we are 

 to estimate its animation by that of his de- 

 tails ; but the actor has admirable powers, 

 and he wants but an abler author. 



Yates, of the Adelphi, collects a crowd ; 

 his Recitations are delivered with pleasan- 

 try and truth. Nothing can be less ori- 

 ginal than the jests, stories, and imitations 

 of his night ; but he carries on the absurdity 

 with liveliness. His mimicry of those who 

 mimic every one else, is at once humour 

 and retributive justice : he obtains applause, 

 and applause is the secui-ity for every thing. 



