THEATRE ROYAL.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 3694, 13 February 1880, Page 3

THEATRE ROYAL.

+ Tho ontovtaiument at tho Theatre Royal last nifjht waß for tho benefit of tho Irish Relief Fund, Thero wus by no mcane.a largo audionco in tho dress circle, but Bevoml membors of tho Oommitteo woro in conspicuous positions thoro, notably his . Worship the Mayor. Downstairs thoro vms a pretty full attendance. Tho dr/imatio portion of tho pvOjjMmmo wm introduood by a prologuo written for tho oocasion by Mr Ludford. This was improe9ivoly doliverod by Mr 0. Hull, who was oomplimonlod by profound attention during its recital, and by enthusiastic applause at its close, 'iho prologuo was immediately followed by that cleverly written lifctlo oomody "Tho Handsomo Husband," in whioh Mr and Mr* Hoslcins, who gave their sorvioes, Miss Lucy Ashton, Miss Lizzlo Lawronco,Mr R. W. Redo, and MrF. Aohton onaoted tho dramatis persona with suoh success that.tho audience were delighted, and insisted upon rooalling thorn at tho fall of the ourtain. Miss Lizzio Morgan, who also appeared gratuitously, then sang " My doarlittlo Jossio," a ploasing ballad of tho stjlo whioh she has for so long a timo mado her own, . She was loudly encored, and in response to the enooro kindly sang tho favourite humorous song "Barnoy O'Hea." To this she gavo considerable archnoßß, and for her rendoring was deservedly apulauied. Mr 0. Hull followed with a woll selected rocitation, entitled "True Oharity," to which ho gavo full elToot. Tho evening's amusement couoludod with tho decidedly burlesquo, extravaganza " La Sonnambula, or i the Supper, the Sloopcr, and tho Merry Swiss Boy," m whioh the charaoters woro suatained by Miss Ruth Groy, Miss Amy Johns, Mies Madgo Horriok, Miss Maudo Vincent, Mr J. Wilkinson, Mr Mack D. Aloxandor, Mr J. Stark, Mr J. Gorbee, and Mr J. P. Hydes. The burlesque is wollknown, and its performance by most of the artists named is too familar to theatre-goers to roquiro notice hore. Below will be found the PROLOGUE 1 . Hark I hark 1 Tbero comes from far a mournful sound 1 Its thrilling cadence strikes upon tho oar, And sends tho blood resurging to tho heart. Wail upon wall is wafted to our shores : Aud, la tho winds of heavou, Zealaudia miXi A. Bistor'a bitter anguish aud despair. A nation starves I a nation cries aloud For holp, for suooonr in its diro distress. Erin, whoso poople never yet forgot To show tho " stranger oonio within, thole gates " That royal hospitality and oare Which they, for asres past, havo mado their own j Et'iu, whooo daughtors all aro passing fair, Whose stalwart sons, by valonv in the field, By daring deeds in many a deadly breach. Have shown the world how herooa do and dio Whoa duty's call demands tho saorifioo. And eli&U we, can we, soo tliU poople starve, Or hear those honost toilers orv for broad, Whilst we our oriminale—tho dro93 and dregs Of vllo humanity— both olotho and feed, And nurture with a lavish, wivstoful band P Bhall want and death invade the people's homes, Whilst; satod Orimo sitd jeerini at their woo P Nay, Heaven forbid that wo should so forget, Our brotherhood, humanity, and name I . Though faults thoro be,' yet now are thoy eolipsod j Pov Charity; whoso Bnowymftnilo falls With touder, graeo before our piteous gaza, Bosof olios, with bsdlmmed and pleading eyes, Thati eiaa and errors now ehould bo forgot. So, through tho dim, enshrouding 1 mists of woo, Wo do but fceo a smtt'orliiff pooplo s ttalu. Tlioro Ktandß foil Fivuiino, bleaiea, and lanlt and grim, Pointing with floshloss finger to tho work Of waut, and death and horror sho has douo. , A hungry, wolfish aiid malignant scowl Qleams from hor oje?; while from her nobtrils stroam Tho vapours of tho tomb. Tho hideous hag Stalks o'er the land, so fair aud bountiful, Mill Boohing, with a fixed and glassy stare . . For viotiins to hor vllo, unholy greed. See I see I Her hand is now at Erin's throat, As though a.vongoful, blaok, and damnod desiro Woro prompting her to do such deeds of blood, To work Buoh horror, bring suoh deep dospair. Tint Hell itsolf might shudder at tho fight. See yonder mother. Mark hor pallid lips, Her ljvld ohooks, her dull and Biinkea eyes. How ghastly, how unearthly j ah I how dread. Hush I Now aha listens. 'Tis a childish voice", Grown faint with hungor, crying " Mother I broad I" "':, ... Oh, God I The ajtony upon that faoe, As all the mother's love and soul go forth tn ono convulsive shudder to her child. Soe I how the olasps her darling to her breast, And tries to soothe it with a fond caross. Sho cannot find it in her heart to say "No bread— my babo— my darling- wo mußfc dio." ' Heaven help that man whose oallous, stony heart, Bemnias unthrilled by mioh a soono as this. But now. must theso things ooiso, and wo must show A sympathy as praoMoal as juat, And prove our zeal by deeds, not hollow words, By prompt assistance to a generous raoo, Whole ohlefust. sin is boing but too poor. Ah, yoa. Tho dawn of bettor days is near ; The ory is hoard, and, in our heart of hearts, It llndß au ooho never to be sillied. And, when the oloud of wretohednens shall lift, And once again reveal the smiling face Of fair Prosperity, aye, then, indeed. Will Erin thank Zealaudia for her aid, And pour a thousand blessings on her head j The nations pulse will beat with many a thrill, For Ireland, after all, is Ireland still.