ABSTRACT
John Kemble had made up his mind early, that all the good tragedies, which could be written, had been written; and he resented any new attempt. His shelves were full. The old standards were scope enough for his ambition. Kemble succeeded to the old lawful thrones, and did not care to adventure bottomry with Sir Edward Mortimer, or any casual speculator that offered. He chose a story, affecting, romantic, Spanish—the plot simple; without being naked—the incidents uncommon, without being overstrained. The conception was bold, and the dénouement—the time and place in which the hero of it existed, considered—not much out of keeping; yet it must be confessed, that it required a delicacy of handling both from the author and the performer, so as not much to shock the prejudices of a modern English audience.
