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MONTHLY MIRROR,

FOR

NOVEMBER, 1803.

Embellished with

PORTRAIT OF MR. HARLEY, ENGRAVED BY RIDLEY, FROM AN ORIGINAL PAINTING BY DE WILDE.

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PRINTED, FOR THE PROPRIETORS,

By J. Wright, No. 20, Denmark-Court, Strand,

And published by Vernor and Hood, in the Poultry;

Sold, also, by all the Booksellers in

the United Kingdom.

1808.

CORRESPONDENCE.

In Number XCVIII. being the last number of the sixteenth volume, will be inserted the Biographical Accounts of Mr. Harley, Mr. R. Palmer, and Mrs. Glover.

MORTIMER is requested to accept our acknowledgments for his constant at

tention.

PADDY'S communication with respect to the song in Measure for Measure in our next.

In our next, also, Mr. Seymour's valuable Notes upon Shakspere will be continued.

We compassionate the condition of Namekits; but we cannot insert his poetry.

The Lines by T. G. are in a similar predicament.

The Character of the Chief Consul of France is extended to a length which far exceeds the limits of our publication.

O. Z. is very right. We are still behind-hand with our poetry; but we can only bring up our arrears by degrees, and we must continue to entreat the patience of our correspondents.

SELIMA's directions shall be punctually observed.

To the author of a Tale of Horror, we can only say, with Hamlet, “Oh horrible! horrible! most horrible !"

Incognito may rely on our secrecy, should he think proper to confide in us.

We beg to be favoured with the continuation of Tintern Abbey as soon as convenient to the author.

Tim Tart's original epigram is a miserable translation from Martial.

ERRATA IN OUR LAST.

In the account of the meteor, p. 233, 1. 14 from bottom, read between nu and zeta Serpentarii.

P. 270, 1. 7 of the sonnet, read " of star, when winds.”

MONTHLY MIRROR,

FOR

NOVEMBER, 1803.

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF

THOMAS KING, ESQ.

Continued from v. ix. p. 262.

ON Mr. King's appointment to the situation of acting manager at Drury Lane, he spoke the following dramatic olio.

Most potent, grave, and reverend Signors,
My very noble, and approv'd good masters!
That I have ta'en the charge of this old house
It is most true, true I am manager;

The very head and front of my proceeding
Hath this extent, no more: light am I in my speech,
And therefore little shall I grace my cause
In speaking for myself: yet, by your patience
I'll pursue my intent in some whimsical measure,
And vary my style, and my metre, at pleasure.

As soon as the winterly season's begun,

To pelt birds in the country, and bards in the town,
In some good-natur'd paper, perhaps, may appear,
(For some such there are, though I own they are rare)
"On the sev'nteenth, one theatre opens for certain,
"Great matters are planning behind either curtain,
"Much bustle and sport, we may venture t' assure you,
"And our old friend, Tom King, takes the helm at old Drury.”

A new system of government here, as at court,

Is bandied about by the public for sport,
And each forms conjectures of what will ensue,
And each says" his own will prove certainly true."

In a play-going family, west of the town,
The whole group at breakfast sat leisurely down;
"Heyday!" says Sir Harry, the newspaper reading,

Why, my Lord, here's a new-fangled mode of proceeding.
"Here's Drury-Lane house, which we all of us love,
"Is going some wonderful changes to prove;

"What's-his-name there,-the witty-retires, by my soul,
"And Tom King has the management now of the whole."-

"A sweet figure he'll make in't," (says Lady Fidfad,)→→
"That he will," says Sir Harry," my Lady, by Gad;"
"The man must be surely depriv'd of his reason:
"In his Ogleby, ma'am, I beheld him last season;
"I little expected to hear of him more,

"King, now, without question, is turn'd of threescore,
"And at this time of day, too, to take up the rule!
"He thinks 'tis as easy as playing the fool!"-

66

Hold, hold," says my Lord, who sat list'ning beside, "Let time shew the proof, and let reason decide; "An admirer and friend of our Roscius so long, "He cannot, methinks, go entirely wrong."

Strait bawls out young master, as loud as he's able, His chin popping up, just abreast of the table, Interrupting the whole conversation: “O, la! "Is not that, pray, mamma, the same man that I saw "In the play where the wrestling and tumbling appears, "In the red and blue coat, with the strange ass's ears?""Yes, child, where the women (two confident wretches) "Run away from their parents, and one strides in breeches." The good-humour'd cit, after dinner with spouse,

Cries, 66 My dear, there's a change at your favourite house. "Let me see, where's the paragraph? O,' Drury-lane,— "Of the theatre here, Mr. King takes the rein! "He'll try hard, I warrant, to fill their strong box,

"For I've notic'd him often attending the stocks;

"He knows what is solid, as well as what's witty,
“And knows that what's good may be found in the city."

Yet not wholly abroad for opinions let's roam,

'Tis worth while to try what are form'd here at home;

For much is it ev'ry performer's concern

When management here takes a different turn.

The deep tragedian, by the green-room fire,

Sits patiently, and inly ruminates the season's danger thus→→→ "I know no personal cause to spurn at him,

"But for the gen'ral; he would be crown'd ;

"How that may change his nature, there's the question:

"It is the bright day that brings forth the adder,
"And that craves wary walking; to say truth,
"I have not known when his affections sway'd
"More than his reason; but 'tis a common proof

"That lowliness is young ambition's ladder,
"Whereto the climber upwards turns his face.
"But when he once attains the topmost round,
"Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees
"By which he did ascend."

Two comedians, for instance, like birds of a feather,
In the dressing-room, laying their droll heads together,
Thus in funny quotation their thoughts may unfold,
And prophesy that which they ne'er may behold.

"And now for our new manager; time is the old judge, that tries all such offenders, then let time try him; he used, while a brother performer only, to be like Grumio, among his fellow-servants, in the farce, 'twas Hey, good lad, Biondello, with a slap o' the back! -here, and well met, fellow Pedro, with a shake by the fist, there;

joining in every whimsical story, and he the loudest among us; but now, ay now, who knows but he may become as proud and perpendicular as the fantastical major-domo, Malvolio. Why, gentlemen, are ye mad, or what are ye? have ye no manners, nor honesty, that ye gabble, and laugh so, at the time of rehearsal! Do ye make a jesting-house of the theatre? Is there no respect of place, persons, or time in ye? If f ye can separate yourselves, and your misdemeanours, ye are welcome to remain here; if not, an it would please ye to take leave, I am very willing to bid ye farewell."

(Sings.) Tune, Nancy Dawson.

And, oh! among the singing folk
What strange confusion 'twill provoke,
While half in earnest, half in joke,

They're sneering found, or grumbling!
"So Master Tom's to rule, I hear,
To judge of songs without an ear,
A rare one, faith, to manage here,
I wish he'd mind his tumbling!"

'Mid such various opinions, how hard to steer right!
Yet I boldly begin my endeavours to night;
Encourag'd thus far by the grace of the town,
Oft its smile I've experienc'd, but never its frown;
And, tho' it may not be a task of great ease
The performers, at once, and the public to please,
I'll not think it grievous some toil to go through,
Resolv'd, to the utmost, this point to pursue,
To be friendly to them, and respectful to you.

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