_Alex._ Envy by the gods! Is then my glory come to this at last, To conquer _women_!--Nay, he said the stoutest Here would tremble at the dangers he had seen! In all the sickness, all the wounds I bore, When from my reins the Javelin's head was cut. Lysimachus! Hephestion! speak Perdicas! Did I once tremble? Oh, the cursed falsehood! Did I once shake or groan, or act beneath The dauntless resolution of a king? _Lysim._ Wine has transported him. _Alex._ No, 'tis mere malice. I was a _woman_ too at Oxydrace, When planting on the walls a scaling ladder; I mounted spite of showers of stones, bars, arrows, And all the lumber which they thunder'd down. When you beneath cry'd and out spread your arms, That I should leap among you--did I so? _Lysim._ Dread sir, the old man knows not what he says. _Alex._ Was I _woman_ when like Mercury, I leaped the walls and flew amidst the foe, And like a baited Lion dyed myself All over in the blood of those bold hunters; 'Till spent with toil I battled on my knees, Plucked forth the darts that made my shield a forest, And hurl'd them back with the most unconquer'd fury, Then shining in my arms, I sunned the field, Moved, spoke and fought, and was myself a war. _Clytus._ 'Twas all Bravado; for, before you leap'd You saw that I had burst the gates asunder. Never was a crisis in human passion, more naturally, more appropriately, more exquisitely marked and illustrated by action than that of Alexander at this juncture by the action of Mr. Cooper. He leaped like a foaming tyger from the throne, and, with his arms extended and his fingers crooked, seemed rushing upon Clytus as if to tear him in pieces. Then, stopping short, as if forbearing a prey too weak for him, he in breathless rage exclaimed---- Oh, that thou wert but once more young! That I might strike thee to the earth For this audacious lie, thou feeble dotard. After this scene we could relish nothing in the play. We endeavoured to disengage ourselves sufficiently to attend to the sequel--but all seemed frigid and uninteresting till the mad dying scene of Alexander again furnished Mr. Cooper with an opportunity to give scope to his talents, which he did, so successfully, that if we had not been filled with the former scene it is likely that we should have pronounced this his _chef a'oeuvre_. As we mean to be full upon the tragedy of ALFONSO, we postpone our further observations on Mr. Cooper to the next number. * * * * * MR. DWYER.