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was written for the elder Kean, when it was for the interest of he theatre that the great tragedian should be the cynosure of attraction in every new piece, in which his extraordinary taents were to be called into requisition. Indeed, Kean himself had established this rule of exclusive appropriation. To an author, this writing up to the peculiar talents and sole glorification of a particular actor, is a severe task.

Few dramatic writers have succeeded in producing a standard play, that has survived the theatrical lives of their representatives. Mr. Payne has been more fortunate than many of his predecessors and contemporaries; for Brutus is still a favourite performance, in the hands of an adequate personator.

The inimitable acting of Kean in this Tragedy, will not readily be forgotten by those who witnessed his performance, on its first production at Drury Lane. The great actor was then in the very zenith of his fame. The part had been carefully fitted to his varied and peculiar powers, and he appeared to have thrown the whole force of his genius both into the conception and embodiment of the character; and his success in the delineational most surpassed any of his previous efforts, great as they The delivery of the famous curse, in the third act, was one of those electric and brilliant specimens of his transcendant genius, which have never been surpassed by any of his contemporaries or successors. Nor was he less triumphant in the closing scene, where he condemns his son. It was another triumph of art, that was above criticism, and defied competition.

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Brutus has found able representatives in this country, in the persons of Booth and Forrest, and is still cccasionally played by these great actors, to the satisfaction of admiring audiences. We subjoin to our remarks the original t uly classical prologue, written for this play by the Rev. George Croly.

H.

PROLOGUE,

Written by a FRIEND, Spoken by MR. H. KEMBLE.

TIME rushes o'er us; thick as evening clouds, Ages roll back :-what calls them from their shrouds ? What in full vision brings their good and great, The men whose virtues make the nation's fate, The far, forgotten atars of humankind? The STAGE-the mighty telescope of mind! If later, luckless arts that stage profane, The actor pleads not guilty of the stain: He, but the shadow flung on fashion's tideYours, the high will that all its waves must guide: Your voice alone, the great reform secures, His, but the passing hour-the age is yours.

Our pledge is kept. Here yet, no chargers wheel, No foreign slaves on ropes or scaffolds reel, No gallick amazons, half naked, climb From pit to gallery-the low sublime!

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In Shakspeare's halls, shall dogs and bears engage
Where brutes are actors, be a booth the stage!
And we shall triumph yet. The cloud has hung
Darkly above-but day shall spring-has sprung-
The tempest has but swept, not shook the shrine;
No lamp that genius lit has ceased to shine!
Still lives its sanctity. Around the spot
Hover high spirits-shapes of burning thought-
Viewless but call them, on the dazzled eye
Descends their pomp of immortality:

Here, at your voice, Rowe, Otway, Southern, come,
Flashing like meteors through the age's gloom.
Perpetual here-king of th' immortal band,

Sits SHAKSPEARE crowned. He lifts the golden wand,
And all obey;-the visions of the past

Rise as they lived-soft, splendid, regal, vast.
Then Ariel harps along the enchanted wave,
Then the Weird sisters thunder in their cave-
The spell is wound. Then shows his mightier art
The Moor's lost soul; the hell of Richard's heart;
And stamps, in fiery warning to all time,
The deep damnation of a tyrant's crime.

To-night we take our lesson from the tomb : 'Tis thy sad cenotaph, colossal Rome!

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How is thy helmet cleft, thy banner low
Ashes and dust are all thy glory now!
While o'er thy wreck, a host of monks ard slaves,
Totter to "seek dishonourable graves."
The story is of Brutus,-in that name
Towered to the sun her eagle's wing of flame!
When sank her liberty, that name of power
Poured hallowed splendours round its dying hour.
The lesson lived for man-that heavenward blaze
Fixed on the pile the world's eternal gaze.

Unrivalled England! to such memories thou,
This hour dost owe the laurel on thy brow;
Those fixed, when earth was like a grave, thy tread,
Prophet and warrior! 'twixt the quick and dead-
Those bade the war for man-those won the name
That crowns thee-famed above all Roman fame.
Now, to our scene-we feel no idle fear,
Sure of the hearts, the British justice here;
If we deserve it, sure of your applause-

Then, hear for Rome, for England, for "our cause!"

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LUCIUS JUNIUS.-Moreen-coloured shirt, black velvet belt, flesh dress complete, and black sandals. Second dress: Crimson shirt, Roman cuirass, and lambarakins of silver leather, helmet, and red sandals. Third dress: Cream-coloured toga, white shirt, and black sandals.

TITUS.-White shirt, scarlet mantle trimmed with black velvet, flesh dress complete, black sandals, and white ribbon for the head.

SEXTUS TARQUIN.--Roman cuirass and lambarakins of gold, helmet, white shirt, red sandals, flesh dress complete, and scarlet mantle.

ARUNS. Buff and silver Roman cuirass, white shirt, red sandals, scarlet mantle, and flesh dress complete.

CLAUDIUS.-Blue and silver Roman cuirass, white shirt, flesh dress complete, red sandals, and scarlet mantle.

COLLATINUS.-Roman scarlet and buff cuirass and lambarakins, red sandals, crimson mantle, and flesh dress complete. Second dress: toga, cream-coloured. VALERIUS.-White shirt, cream-coloured toga, russet sandals, and flesh dress complete.

LUCRETIUS.-Ibid.

HORATIUS.-White shirt, crimson mantle, russet sandals, and flesh dress com

plete.

CELIUS.-Brown shirt, sandals, and flesh dress complete.

FLAVIUS CORUNNA.-Green shirt, Roman cuirass, sandals, and flesh dress complete.

CENTURION.-Blue and scarlet cuirass and lambarakins, one scarlet shoulder-
piece, russet sandals, and flesh dress complete.
MESSENGER.-Ibid.

FIRST ROMAN.-Brown shirt and cap, sandals, and flesh dress complete.
SECOND ROMAN.-Ibid.

THIRD ROMAN.-Ibid.

TULLIA.-White train dress, scarlet toga, gold tiara, tied with long white ribbon. TARQUINIA.-White train dress, puce-coloured toga, and gold tiara, tied with long white ribbon.

LUCRETIA.-White-train dress, white toga, and white satin tiara, tied with long white ribbon.

PRIESTESS.-All white.

VESTAL.-White train dress, with chemesette boddice, and white ribbon through the hair.

LAVINIA.--White train dress trimmed with blue, blue toga, and white ribbon through the hair.

BRUTUS.

ACT I.

SCENE I.-A Street in Rome.

Enter VALERIUS and LUCREtius, r.

Val. Words are too feeble to express the horror
With which my soul revolts against this Tarquin.
By poison he obtained his brother's wife,

Then, by a baser murder, grasped the crown!
These eyes beheld that agéd monarch, thrown
Down from the senate-house-his feeble limbs
Bruised by the pavement-his time-honoured locks,-
Which from the very robber would have gained
Respect and veneration-bathed in blood!
With difficulty raised, and tottering homeward,
The murderers followed-struck him—and he died!
Luc. Inexpiable crime !

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Val. High in her regal chariot, Tullia cameThe corpse lay in the street. The charioteer Turned back the reins in horror. On, slave, on! 'Shall dead men stop my passage to a throne?' Exclaimed the parricide. The gore was dashed From the hot wheels up to her diadem!

Luc. And Heaven's avenging lightnings were withheld Here rules this Tullia, while the king, her husband, Wastes our best blood in giddy, guilty war!

Spirit of Marcus Junius!-Would the gods
Deign to diffuse thy daring through the land,
Rome from her trance with giant spirit would start,
Dash off her fetters, and amaze the world!

Val. Junius, didst say? Oh! tyranny long since
Had sunk-chained-buried in its native hell—
But Tarquin, trembling at his virtues, murdered
Him and his elder son. The younger, Lucius,

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