KEAN’S RICHARD III.

The Times.] [October 7, 1817.
Drury-Lane Theatre.

Mr. Kean has returned to us again (after no very long absence), in the character of Richard the Third. His performance of the part is so well known to the public, and has been so often criticised, that it would be superfluous to enter into particulars again at present. We observe no great alteration in him. If any thing, his voice is deepened, and his pauses are lengthened, which did not need to be. His habitual style of acting is apt to run into an excess of significance; and any studied addition to that excess necessarily tasks the attention to a painful degree. Mr. Pope resumed his situation as King Henry, and was stabbed in the Tower, according to the rules of art. We were glad to see him in the part, though we should have no objection to see the part itself omitted, to make room for the fine abrupt beginning of Shakspeare’s Richard the Third, with the soliloquy, ‘Now is the winter of our discontent,’ &c. In our opinion, the Richard the Third which was manufactured by Cibber, and which has now obtained prescriptive possession of the stage, is a vile jumble; and we are convinced that a restoration of the original play (as written by the original author) would, with the omission of a few short scenes, be an advantage to the managers, and a gratification to the public. We understand, indeed, that something of this sort has been in agitation; and in order to contribute any little aid in our power to so laudable an attempt, we shall here give a few of the passages which are omitted in the common stage representation, but which appear to us particularly calculated for stage effect, and which would also fit Mr. Kean’s peculiar style of acting, as the glove fits the hand. One of these occurs almost immediately after the first opening soliloquy, in the dialogue between Glo’ster and Brackenbury:—

Glo’ster.—Even so! an’ please your worship, Brackenbury,
You may partake of any thing we say;
We speak no treason, man:—we say, the king
Is wise and virtuous; and his noble queen
Well strook in years: fair, and not jealous:
We say that Shore’s wife hath a pretty foot,
A cherry lip, a bonny eye, a passing pleasing tongue:
That the queen’s kindred are made gentle folks:
How say you, Sir? can you deny all this?
Brackenbury.—With this, my lord, myself have nought to do.
Glo’ster.—What, naught to do with mistress Shore?
I tell thee, fellow,
He that doth naught with her, excepting one,
Were best to do it secretly, alone,
Brackenbury.—What one, my Lord?
Glo’ster.—Her husband, knave:—Would’st thou betray me?

We think, if any thing could give additional effect to the fine taunting irony of these lines, it would be Mr. Kean’s mode of delivering them. He is almost the only actor who does not spoil Shakspeare.

Again, a very spirited scene of a different description, which is an astonishing mixture of violence and duplicity, occurs when Glo’ster rushes into the apartment where the Queen’s friends are assembled, to complain of their taking advantage of his meekness and simplicity:—

Glo’ster.—They do me wrong, and I will not endure it.
Who are they that complain unto the king,
That I, forsooth, am stern, and love them not?
By holy Paul, they love his Grace but lightly,
That fill his ears with such dissentious rumours!
Because I cannot flatter, and speak fair,
Smile in men’s faces, smooth, deceive, and cog,
Duck with French nods, and apish courtesy,
I must be held a rancorous enemy.
Cannot a plain man live, and think no harm,
But thus his simple truth must be abus’d
By silken, sly, insinuating Jacks?
Grey.—To whom in all this presence speaks your Grace?
Glo’ster.—To thee, that hast nor honesty, nor grace?
When have I injured thee? When done thee wrong?
Or thee? or thee? or any of your faction?
A plague upon you all!

This is certainly an admirable conclusion to so modest an introduction. Any one who reads this passage, and who has seen Mr. Kean acquit himself in similar situations, must, we think, feel with us a desire to see him in this. We might multiply these instances of characteristic traits in the adroit and high-spirited Richard. We shall give one more, which is so fine in its effect, and besides, conveys so striking a picture of the outward demeanour which an actor, to fulfil the poet’s conception, ought to assume in the part, that we cannot resist giving it entire. It is the scene where he entraps the unsuspecting Hastings:—

Hastings.—His grace looks cheerfully and smooth this morning:
There’s some conceit or other likes him well,
When he doth bid good-morrow with such spirit.
I think, there’s ne’er a man in Christendom,
Can lesser hide his love or hate than he;
For by his face straight shall you know his heart.
Stanley.—What of his heart perceive you in his face,
By any likelihood he show’d to-day?
Hastings.—Marry, that with no man here he is offended;
For, were he, he had shown it in his looks.’
Re-enter Glo’ster and Buckingham.
‘Glo’ster.—I pray you all, tell me what they deserve
That do conspire my death with devilish plots
Of damned witchcraft; and that have prevail’d
Upon my body with their hellish charms?
Hastings.—The tender love I bear your grace, my lord,
Makes me most forward in this noble presence
To doom the offenders: whosoe’er they be,
I say, my lord, they have deserved death.
Glo’ster.—Then be your eyes the witness of their evil;
Look how I am bewitch’d; behold, mine arm
Is, like a blasted sapling, wither’d up;
And this is Edward’s wife, that monstrous witch,
Consorted with that harlot, strumpet Shore,
That by their witchcraft thus have marked me.
Hastings.—If they have done this deed, my noble lord—
Glo’ster.—If? thou protector of this damn’d strumpet,
Talk’st thou to me of ifs!—Thou art a traitor:—
Off with his head! Now by St. Paul I swear,
I will not dine until I see the same.
Lovell and Catesby, look that it be done.
The rest, that love me, rise and follow me.

Now this is despatching business in the true dramatic style. Poets cannot take the same bold licenses, with their characters on the stage, till kings are reinstated in their former plenitude of power. The incident which is here omitted in the acting play of Richard III. has been transferred to Rowe’s Jane Shore. We should like to see it restored to its original place, and justice done it by Mr. Kean’s distorted gestures, and smothered voice, suddenly bursting on the ear like thunder.