29 OCTOBER 1842, Page 14

THE THEATRES.

King John, as represented at Drury Lane, is an embodied picture, illustrating with all the splendour and refinements of scenic art that foul page of English history which SHAKSPERE has dignified and enriched with a prodigality of poetic imagery and deep human interest : we say a picture, for though composed of a succession of scenes, these form parts of a coherent and impressive whole, the design of which is sha- dowed forth in the drama itself. Regarded as an historic spectacle, it is at once instructive and imaginative ; the gorgeous amplitude of the pageantry being rendered subservient to characteristic propriety, and the pictorial effects harmonizing with the nature of each incident : in a word, the scenes are a mute chorus, presenting in a visible shape those circumstances and comments which it was the office of the chorus to suggest to the audience when the scenic art was in its infancy. In the first scene, King John is in the plenitude of his power, enthroned and surrounded by his Barons, hurling de&nae to the French King ; the Gothic hall, hung with tapestry below, bit above showing the bare stone walls, adorned with only a square canopy over the chair of state, and the carved timbers of the roof, exhibiting the rude pomp of elder days. In the next scene, the chivalry of France and England, arrayed in the glittering panoply of war, meet before the gates of Anglers; the lofty ramparts and bastions of the town, stretching out in dim per- spective along the river's bank, frown defiance on the rival forces ; and while the two Monarchs hold parley with the citizens on the walls, we have full opportunity to note the details of this sumptuous and stirring scene. The qnaint heraldic devices on the shields aid surcoats of the knights enliven with their gaudy hues the glitter of their coats of mail ; the regal habiliments of the kings, the flowing robes of the ladies, the parti-coloured habits of the heralds, and the flaunting banners, adding a brighter glow to this warlike pomp : the host of warriors are in frequent action, and the shifting of the throng as each party advance and retire produces new combinations of colour that pre- vent the eye from being fatigued. In the succeeding scene, the arrival of the Pope's Legate swells the pageant with the pomp of the Romish Church, and brings new elements of discord into play : the frantic grief of Queen Constance now casts a shade of gloom over the dazzling scene; and the subsequent entrance of King John, de- feated and cast down, attended by a few dejected followers, prepares the way for the catastrophe of Prince Arthur's death. The contrast of this and the following scenes with those that have gone before is striking to the most careless spectator : John is seen again enthroned, but shorn alike of pomp and power : his abasement before the Pope's Legate is followed by a second defeat in his own kingdom ; his death by poison concluding the tragedy. The management of the shadows of the pic- ture is equally artistical with that of the lights : the lurid atmosphere of the battle-field, and the dim moonlight over Swinstead Abbey, precede the pall of night that hangs over the death-scene of the King. Both in the conception and execution of the various scenes, the painter, Mr. TELBIN, has shown himself an artist of superior power, imbued with the spirit of the drama: his knowledge of Gothic architecture, however, is not commensurate with his taste; the windows of the hall in the opening. scene want mullions, and are otherwise incorrect.

We have given precedence to the spectacle, because it is the most prominent and admirable feature of the representation : but the perform- ance also has points of merit, individually as well as in the mass. Macauany's Sing John is a fine personation of the base, abject, and bloody-minded tyrant : his tempting of Hubert to murder Arthar is a masterly exhibition of cowaid villany : before a word is spoken, you see the "thought whose murder is fantastical" rising in his mind; conscience-stricken fear and doubt of Hubert's compliance alone delay its utterance ; there is meanness alike in his cajolery and ex- ultation; and his after repentance is not remorse, but the dread of consequences. His death-scene is consistent with the character : bodily agony predominates ; the only mental suffering being miserable impatience and resentment, which are expressed without physical exag- geration. MACREADY never fails to give personal dignity to weak and ignoble characters. PHELPS'S rugged aspect, voice, and manner, and the melting tenderness encased in that rough rind, fit him for the part of Hubert ; and he becomes it well : there is a sternness in his very re- lenting; his fierceness is the resolution of a determined character, faith- ful to his royal master in all but crime. Prince Arthur is personated very cleverly and with a touching simplicity by Miss NEWCOMBE—the scene with Hubert is almost too painful : but she has been taught to give vent to her distress with the tearful dread of a child fearing bodily pain, rather than with that deeper-seated terror of the loss of sight which the language of the part expresses, and is the source of deeper sympathy. Nor is the death of Arthur well managed : after falling from the tower, he rolls over and over down a flight of steps ; a feat which would be an actual impossibility—an exaggeration at once shocking and ludicrous. Miss H. Fara= is not adequate to the demands of such a part as Queen Constance; and she overtasked her lungs in the mistaken effort to express mental anguish by physical violence : her first great scene is an exhibition of the sheer impotence of rant to accomplish any greater feat than stunning the ears ; but it was applauded, by the "barren spectators," as loudness and vehemence, however empty, generally are: in the mad-scene she was more subdued, and consequently more im- pressive; but the emotions she depicted and excited fell far short of what this pathetic scene requires. ANDERSON, as the Bastard, Philip Faulconbridge, is too boisterous and flippant, especially in the earlier scenes ; he shows too much of the bully and the swaggerer: the Bastard is a blunt-spoken, humorous gallant, exulting in his personal attri- butes, proud of his kingly parentage, and eager for distinction ; but that very scorn of ostentation which provokes him to ridicule the braggart Archduke of Austria would have been a check upon his own bearing. The character requires greater weight, depth, and largeness of style, than Mr. ANDERSON is master of: CHARLES ICEBIBLE was the only modern actor equal to represent the physical grandeur and moral

dignity of this noble specimen of valorous manhood. '