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THE DRAMA.

In the following account of the opening of the splendid New Theatre Royal, Drury-lane, there is such a whimsical display of national and individual character, that we cannot refrain from laying it entire before our readers. The managers, it seems, had offered a prize for the best poetical address that should be presented, to be delivered on the occasion. About a hundred candidates offered, and the prize was adjudged to Lord Byron,* the illustrious author of Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, and other poems. A great clamour ensued among the rival candidates; the judges were accused of partiality; the "irritable tribe," of Grub street flew to arms, and a terrible scene of ink-shed was anticipated. Dr. Busby, of musical renown, seems openly to have taken the field; and with a gallantry and hardihood, seldom witnessed among the timid sons of song, has stood forth the champion and eulogist of his own Muse. The scene, as described, would make an admirable companion picture to Hogarth's enraged musician.

[From the European Magazine, for October, 1812.]

FIRST APPEARANCE OF MR. GEORGE FREDERICK BUSBY.

AFTER the play on Wednesday night, October 14, 1812, one of the most singular scenes occurred that we ever witnessed in a theatre, on or off the stage. The curtain had scarcely descended, when a gentleman who was in the pit, close to the stage, rose and addressed the audience with great earnestness. We were at too great a distance to hear him distinctly. We understood him to request their attention to that which he had to state, and he was confident that when they were in possession of the circumstances which he wished to unfold, his conduct would cease to create surprise. He was still endeavouring to speak when the curtain was again drawn up, which is now necessary (in the absence of the stage-doors,) when the play of the next day is announced. Holland advanced to give out the play, and appeared quite confounded to find another in possession of the house. The unknown seemed to insist upon his right to precedence, and exerted himself to the utmost to obtain a hearing before another was permitted to speak. Holland came forward, and it was difficult to determine which was most confused, the gentleman in the pit, or the actor on the stage. The audience, as is usual whenever a theatrical dispute arises, took different parts in the controversy, and some were clamorous

For this address see the poetical department. VOL. I. 2D ED. 17

that the one should be listened to, and some that the other should be heard. Holland now appeared to recover from his surprize, and reflecting that it was not of the greatest importance that what he had to say should be heard, announced the play in the midst of the tumult, and retired. The gentleman again endeavoured to make himself heard, but without success.-The cries of "hear!"" silence!" &c., which burst from all parts of the theatre, completely overpowered his efforts, and we could not catch a single word. He then displayed a paper, which it was understood he wished to read. The audience now intimated a wish that he would get on the stage, and with this wish, often repeated, he at length complied. On making his first appearance on these boards, he met with the usual indulgence," and was loudly applauded. He walked nearly across the stage, and made a most profound bow to the audience, and was about to speak, when Mr. Raymond entered from behind. He advanced to the front of the stage, and made a stand very near the unknown, and both stood bowing to the audience for some time; both then attempted to address the audience, and the audience, tired of addresses, hissed both. Mutually disappointed in this, they now addressed each other, and, from the manner in which their conference commenced, with profound bowing to each other, it was supposed by part of the audience that they were about to rehearse the first scene in Tom Thumb. Both again attempted to speak, without being heard. The voice of the audience seemed in favour of the unknown-and Mr. Raymond perceiving this, at length intimated, "that if it was the wish of the house to hear that gentleman, he (Mr. R.) would give place to him." This was followed by applause, and Mr. Raymond made his exit. The gentleman once more endeavoured to make himself heard, but without effect; though, from his earnest manner, and impassioned gestures, many were as anxious to hear him, as he was to be heard. Silence, however, could not be obtained, and the utmost confusion prevailed in the theatre, some calling to him to "go on," and others to "go off" Matters stood thus when Mr. Raymond entered again. He remained on the stage but a very few moments, and, after exchanging a few words with the unknown, retired. The latter made a new appeal to the audience, which was not more fortunate than his former effort -and clasping his hands with vexation, he seemed at a loss what step to take, when the entrance of two suspicious characters (their first appearance on this stage) attracted his attention. These persons, who like Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, were sent for, like Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, crossed Hamlet (the unknown)" to get the wind of him." One of them now ap proached him, and made some pointed observations as we guess,

from his pointing to one corner of the stage. This not being properly attended to, he rudely seized the gentleman, who, endeavouring to regain his former station in the pit, found his retreat cut off by the suspicious character, who, as well as the first, proved to be a police officer. These persons bore him from the stage in custody, amidst a tumult of hisses, mingled with expressions of approbation.

The farce of The Bee Hive commenced, and Mr. Penson, who, as Mingle, first came forward, met with so rude a reception, that he was obliged to retreat. After a pause of a minute or two, he again made his appearance, and the storm again rose so high, that it was impossible for him to proceed in his part. He now appealed to the audience, stated himself to be placed in a very awkward situation, and solicited their indulgence. This had not the effect of appeasing the assembly, and he again left the stage.

Mr. Raymond once more came forward, and was allowed to speak, an indulgence of which he availed himself in the following manner:

"Ladies and Gentlemen,-I wish most respectfully to ask what is your wish?

"Explanation."—"Bring forward the man.”

Why did you seize him?" and a hundred other exclamations burst at once from the audience.

Mr. Raymond then went on- An unknown person has this night attempted to disturb your entertainment"

Here he was interrupted by several persons in the pit, who contended that the person was not unknown, and that he had not attempted to disturb the entertainment of the audience.

Mr. Raymond mentioned, that he had disturbed the audience, stated it to be his duty to prevent any disturbance, and appealed to the house if it was regular for any person to leave another part of the house, and come on the stage to address them.

The farce was then resumed, but experienced great opposition at first; this, however, soon died away, and the evening's performance met with no other interruption.

We understand that the Gentleman who attempted to address the audience, was George Frederick Busby, Esq. The subject of his intended appeal was, we believe, to vindicate the TALENT of the country from the odium cast upon it by the choice of the existing Address. This object he intended to effect by the recitation of a MONOLOGUE, previously seen by the committee of Drury lane, written by his father, Dr. Busby.

The Rivals and Turn Out were performed on Thursday. The comedy went off with great applause, and we were much rejoiced to see our old favourite Bannister in Acres. The com

pany, altogether, may be considered very strong in comedy and opera; the managers, we know, are determined to spare no expense in engaging the most eminent talents, and we hope their laudable zeal will be seconded by public encouragement.

First appearance of Dr. Busby, and second appearance of Mr. George Frederic Busby.

Immediately on the conclusion of the comedy, Dr. Busby, who was in the first seat of the third tier of boxes, presented himself to the audience, and bowing respectfully to all parts of the house attempted to address them. For some minutes, however, the tumult was so great of friends and foes, hisses and plaudits, that not a single sentence could be heard. As soon as any thing like silence could be obtained, the doctor proceeded thus:

"I am Doctor Busby, a lover, a member of the drama, and a friend of the theatre-(Loud cheering, hisses, and hear him!) Ladies and Gentlemen, by some I may be blamed for taking this method of addressing you, as being humiliating to a gentleman; but I can see no greater impropriety in speaking from the public box of a public theatre, than from a forum, or from the hustings at an election.-(Loud cheering, with some disap probation.)-Ladies and Gentlemen-for the talents and qualifications of the right honourable, noble, and illustrious lord, who wrote the address which you have heard this night recited to you, I have the highest respect-(Applause and hisses.)-It is well known that for several weeks, the committee, appointed to manage the concerns of this theatre, have, by public advertisement, courted the exertions of the literary world, to prepare an address to be spoken at the opening of the truly magnificent structure. This was on their part noble and praiseworthy, but it must be allowed on all hands that, however right they have been in intention, they have most lamentably erred in judgment -" (Here the noise and tumult was so great, that the doctor for some minutes could not proceed.)

The number of persons who condescended to furnish addresses, he believed, had exceeded one hundred, and those who thought that out of such a number a better could not have been selected, did not think so highly of the poetical talent of the country as he did. Among them it must be believed that some were very fine. He himself knew of four or five of that description.-(Cries of "Your own and your son's were among them.")

The bell now rung for the first music, and the voice of the speaker was lost in sounds which came from the orchestra. When the music ceased, he again attempted to address the house. The curtain, however, at this moment rose for the farce. Mr.

Horn entered, but was obliged, by the voice of the audience, to retire. After a short pause, he again came on with Mr. Knight, and attempted to commence the performance, but the cries of "Off, off," were so loud, that it was impossible for them to go on. Both left the stage, and Mr. Raymond made his appearance. Silence being obtained, he addressed the audience in these words:

"Ladies and Gentlemen,-Is it your wish that we should proceed with the farce?"

The audience seemed generally to signifiy a wish that the performance should go on, and Mr. Raymond bowed and retired. The farce recommenced, but the tumult continued so high, that for some time nothing could be heard.* It subsided towards the close of the first scene, and went on without interruption. Dr. Busby resumed his seat, having been desired by several persons to defer what he had to say till the entertainment was over. At the end of the first act the doctor rose again, but had not time to speak before the second commenced. The performance over, he once more presented himself.

"I have a strong, a powerful motive," says he, "for requesting your attention. I am a friend to this theatre. I wish to open the way to superexcellence, to bring forward strong and powerful talent instead of letting it sink into oblivion. Gentlemen, I am a friend to merit, and more especially to modest merit.-My son is now in the house with an address which I had prepared for the opening of this theatre, and nothing would be a greater pride and satisfaction to me than that he should be allowed by the managers to rehearse it on the stage, if you will give him leave.”

During the course of the first act of Turn Out, which was the farce, Mr. Dowton took occasion to give a by-blow to the discomfited doctor. He asserted, as one of the complaints against a misjudging world, "which had rejected many of his works of genius, that he had sent twenty most noble addresses for Drury lane Theatre, none of which had been accepted by the committee. He was, therefore, determined to go to the play-house himself, and recite them." This allusion was received with unbounded approbation. In consequence of the derogatory exclusion which had been threatened to Dr. Busby, the following verse of Knight's song was loudly cheered.

Poor poets must often turn out, turn out,

Poor poets must often turn out,

And though often they wait,

Expecting their fate,

They discover too late,

Like the rest, they must quickly turn out, turn out.