I stagger up and down, an old man, and none to guide me:
Not one! (Takes Victoria's hand.) Cold! cold! That was an ice-bolt!
I shiver! It grows very dark! Alonzo! Victoria!—Very—very
dark! (Dies.)"
There is no such nonsense as this in the tragedies of Proctor, Milman, or Sheridan Knowles. "Mirandola," "Fazio," and "Virginius," will never want readers; and "Virginius," especially, will never want an audience, if it be but fittingly represented. The principal character in "Virginius" was written expressly for Edmund Kean; but mere and lucky accident conveyed it to Mr. Macready, who found therein golden opportunity, and knew how to avail himself of it. To the former, with a sketch of whose career I close my contributions towards a History of the English Stage, may be happily applied the lines of the French poet:—
"Ce glorieux acteur,
Des plus fameux héros fameux imitateur;
Du théâtre Anglais, la splendeur et la gloire,
Mais si mauvais acteur dedans sa propre histoire."