"Were you not sent for? Is it your own And on their saying, "What should we say my Lord." his manner of giving the following answer, "Any thing,-but to the purpose." is a delicacy of Scenic painting of the most masterly kind. Then again, when he resumes an energy of reflection, with what exquisite dignity and feeling he gives that speech in which the poet has so beautifully described our nature. "What a piece of work is man!" &c. There is a sublime importance imparted to this speech by his delivery of it, that never fails to rouse Public sensibility into the utmost vigour of moral reflection, which is manifested by repeated plaudits. In the following speech which breathes a vehemence of sentiment, Mr. Kemble is particularly fine, 66 "It is not very strange: for my uncle is king of Denmark; and "those, that would make mouths at him while my father liv'd, give twenty, forty, fifty and a hundred ducats a-piece, for his picture in "little. There is someth.ng in this more than natural, if philosophy "could find it out." In the last sentence he lowers his voice into a kind of whisper, and contracts his features into a most expressive picture of the grief that agitates his mind, which is effective of great admiration. The force of his feelings seems to be smothered under a prudent caution, and all the light and shade of the speech are marked with a most pleasing accuracy We cannot leave unnoticed his scene with the Players, where he endeavours to recollect the speech he once heard, and which he wishes the Thespian hero to repeat: he displays a princely dignity, blended with a pleasing suavity of manners, in his address to the actor, which is generally rewarded with public notice; indeed in each scene with Players he shews the genius and judgment of a very refined and accomplished performer. His real tenderness for Ophelia, and his ineffectual endeavours to hide it, are distinctions which he is as nice in conveying as the poet was in drawing. He is also particularly great with Horatio, when he says, "Give me that man "That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him "In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, "As I do thee."--- In the scene where the Players come in, the King asks Hamlet the name of the Play, whom he answers in the most impressive manner, and gives these lines in the most finished style of acting. "You shall see anon, 'tis a knavish piece of work : "But what of that? Your Majesty, and we "Have free souls, it touches us not; let the "Gall'd jade wince, our withers are unwrung." There are other little pictures of mimic beauty in this scene, peculiar to his representation of the part. We now come to the Closet Scene with his Mother, where he preserves a proper air of filial affection amidst the most bitter reproaches, until he gives way to the awe and surprise that must naturally arise from the re-appearance of the Ghost, and here are so many finished touches of a great Player, that to re R cord them would occupy more pages than we can spare to Mr. KEMBLE'S Hamlet; but among the many delicacies of his performance, in this scene, we must notice one or two. On Polonius's calling for help, and Hamlet's being worked up to a state of frenzy, he runs behind the arras and destroys him, and on his return to the Queen, who in a state of great agitation says, H. "What hast thou done?" Nay, I know not:-Is it the King?" the convulsed motion of his frame at the time he asks this question, and the complication of distress, anger, and gratified revenge, with a hopeful belief that the King had fallen a proper sacrifice to his villainy, are finely expressed by this scenic painter:it is Kemble in all the perfection of art and taste. And when he exhibits his Father's portrait, and compares the dead with the living Monarch, he shews how inimitably well he has conceived his author, from the spirit and expression he gives to the text. There is a princely dignity preserved by Mr. Kemble, united with a sovereign contempt for the King, when he is taking leave of him and his mother for England. It is to be observed that there are little niceties in an actor's performance, or costume, that often indicate a superior vigour of conception, and a refined judgment; and where they are manifested, public approbation is but a just tribute for the care a performer has taken to render his efforts as probable. and effective as the subject of his exertion will admit, It is evident from the language of SHAKESPEARE that he never intended Hamlet to appear in the Church-yard in the same habiliments he wore on leaving the royal mansion, otherwise he could not, be so long concealed from public notice; besides, the words of the poet confirm our opinion, when he discovers himself to Ophelia's mourners, by crying out "I am Hamlet the Dane," Mr. Kemble displays the sense of his author better even in this, as well as other respects, than any of his contemporaries, in wearing a long robe, which he throws off on making himself known to the other personages of the Play. The ease and elegance this gentleman maintains in the scene wih Osrick, is particularly fine and impressive, we therefore select one of the many little delicacies of picture, which accompany his interview with the Fop, who says, "I mean, Sir, for his weapon." Hamlet enquires "What is his weapon?" Osrick. "Rapier and dagger." replies Hamlet "That's two of his weapons." with the utmost elegance of deportment, united also with a feature of scorn for the Butterfly who has thrust himself into his company. There are some portions of this character which many actors have delineated with a happy effect, but they have been frequently defective in keeping up the general dignity of the part. Mr. K. however, never loses sight of his birth and elevated rank, but even shews the Prince in the flourish of his rapier, and preserves a greatness of demeanour to the last moment of vital power. We shall conclude our remarks on Mr. Kemble's Hamlet in the language of Cibber: "Pity it is,” says that writer, "that the momentary beauties flowing from an harmonious elocution, cannot, like those of poetry, be their own record! That the animated graces of the Player can live no longer than the instant the breath and motion that presents them; or at best can but faintly glimmer through the memory, or imperfect attestation of a few surviving spectators.' Biron in the Fatal Marriage, is a Dramatic portrait which has not been drawn with those great and striking qualities that shew Mr. Kemble to any advantage as its representative. It contains no variety of passion, and has a sameness of feature that does not give scope for extensive exertion; yet the feelings of the part seem to be well stamped on his mind; from the play of his muscles, and the deportment of his action being judiciously braced or relaxed agreeable to the passions of the character; but still we consider his assumption of the unfortunate Biron* not among his most happy efforts. *There is a circumstance attending the representation of this Tragedy, that we cannot withhold from public censure. In the last Scene, which is rendered particularly interesting by Mrs. Siddons' astonishing powers as Isabella, where she displays an accumulated load of grief which misfortunes and time have progressively encreased, and which swells into a state of insanity on being a witness of her husband's death the sight of her dear Biron's remains, with the recollection of her past troubles, seem to press upon her mind with redoubled force, and for a few minutes deprive her of speech, but which is finely shewn by a wild and senseless stare; however, on the attendants of the Play making an endeavour to lead her off the Stage, she reluctantly goes a few paces with them, but on seeing, as if by accident, her lifeless husband, she resists the affected strength of the servants, and returns with a voilence of action, and lays hold of his hand to drag him with her. As far as the effects of this effort is to be con◄ sidered, we think it very natural, and adds an additional proof of the strength of her affection for her beloved husband. But now comes the |