| The Times.] | [December 16, 1817. |
Drury-Lane Theatre.
Mr. Kean, after an absence of nearly six weeks, owing to serious indisposition, last night resumed his professional duties at this theatre, in the arduous character of Richard the Third. He was received on his appearance with all that warm greeting and enthusiastic applause, which are perhaps the highest meed of histrionic talent, and which are unfailingly called forth by this distinguished actor, after every suspension, however short, of the exercise of his art. This expression of good-will was increased, we think, in the present instance, by the recollection that the privation was caused by illness, and that it was possible the stage might have been deprived of one of its greatest ornaments. The acclamations, the waving of hats and handkerchiefs, continued for some minutes. Mr. Kean looks somewhat thinner than before his indisposition, but betrayed no deficiency of power; on the contrary, on account probably of our having for sometime past been doomed to witness very inferior performances, he appeared to surpass himself. He exhibited all that energy and discrimination, that faculty of identifying himself with the character he represents, which is to be ranked among the greatest efforts of human talents; he realized our conceptions of a being whose soul
‘Not Fate itself could awe.’
The fine passages of this piece of acting are well known to the public; to quote them would be to extract the whole play. The conclusion of his career was marked by nearly as much applause as the commencement. The theatre was well filled, notwithstanding the extreme wetness of the evening.
KING JOHN
| The Times.] | [December 18, 1817. |
Covent-Garden Theatre.
Shakspeare’s tragedy of King John was acted last night at this theatre. Miss O’Neill performed the part of Constance; and though everything undertaken by this excellent actress must have a large proportion of good in it, we think that she is less successful in this than in most of her other characters: for this, physical causes, her youth for example, may be assigned; and her perfect delineation of Constance is, perhaps, reserved to the maturity of her age and her talents. She did not convey to us that warmth of temper, that susceptibility to grief and anger, which mark this injured Princess. Her speeches on the conclusion of the marriage with Blanch, which admit great variety of expression, were simple declamation, without passion and nearly in the same tone: but we would rather dwell on beauties than defects. Two or three lines at the end of the scene just mentioned made amends for all; when she says,
‘To me, and to the state of my great grief,