Punch: Punch (60.1871)

212

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[May 27, 1871.

COSTERS AND CHIGNON.

1 See that there Chignon on a-head ? "
A man on an ass to his fellow said—
" I calls that the mane of a thoroughbred."

' Mane ? " quoth the other; " What, that hair ?
Zummut more like it a-growin' elsewhere
You '11 sometimes see at a country fair—

The tail of a Hoss plaited up with straw
'S the nighest thing to it as I ever saw."
The two men burst into a loud guffaw.

Butter from the Churn.

Thanks to the establishment of a joint-stock company
of substantial farmers in the province of East Gothland,
wo rejoice in the prospect of an importation of Swedish
butter, of much lower price and a great deal higher quality
than the grease now selling under that name at Is. Ud.
per lb. It is a wonder that the facility of a butter-supply
from Sweden never occurred to honest and enterprising
English dealers, aware, as of course they were, how
abundantly cattle thrive on Swedes.

Cetrby and joan {Wednesday, May 24).
Morning. Epsom—Great race.

SOME FRIES'DS WHO "NEVER MISS THE DERBY." Evening. Queen's Theatre Toil Taylor's new play.

THE FEENCH ACTOR-SWINDLE EXPOSED.

{By a British Veteran.)

Me. Punch, Stb,

Having long had dinned into my ears by our critical
gentlemen of the Press, the immense superiority of French over
English acting—and I may remark, by the way, that I don't think
that the constant sneering and sarcasm at native talent is exactly
the sort of thing " to bring the violets from under the leaves," as my
amiable friend Fitz-Ball once remarked to your caustic contributor
Jeiikold—I have lately been a regular attendant (with orders) at
the Opera Comique. Though classically and expensively educated, I
cannot say that 1 possess that acquaintance with the French lan-

fuage—as spoken—which would enable me to follow French dramatic
ialogue—word by word, that is. Happily, however, my familiarity
with our own dramatic repertoire has pretty well initiated me
into most of the stock pieces on the French boards. As the Oxford
undergraduate said, when asked how he had managed his Greek
Testament in the Little-go, that he had gone in trusting to his
knowledge of the original, so I may say of the French plays, one
can always fall back on one's knowledge of the original—in English.

Besides, Sir, as a veteran performer, I do not require a knowledge
of the words to enable me to pronounce on the merits of the acting.

There is a style, Sir: a mastery of the resources of our difficult
and thankless art; a way of treading the stage ; a secret of getting
the most out of a point, a bit of business, or a situation, which pro-
claims the actor far more palpably than such secondary matters as
propriety of pronunciation, correctness of emphasis, music of decla-
mation, or the suiting of voice or delivery to character. All that is
plain sailing—the A B C of our craft. Far beyond it lie the arcana,
the Masonic mysteries, or esoteric doctrines of the dramatic art. It
is mastery of these that makes the essence of acting, as I humbly
conceive it.

Of such mastery I was sorry, but not surprised, to find scarcely
a trace among the actors of the Theatre Francais—great as their
reputation may be in France, and echoed and exaggerated as French
admiration may be by venal and malignant critics on our own Press.
That they are venal, I know, for I have given them nothing, and
what is the consequence ? That not one of them devoted so much as
a paragraph to my Hamlet when I played it at my complimentary
benefit at the Wells, last year, or my Lear at the Royal Hoxton,
which had an uninterrupted run of three nights, during the present
season.

Will it be believed, Sir, that I did not see in one of these much-
vaunted French performers the least knowledge of how to get
the most out of an exit, or the slightest power of making a point.
Their style of delivery was tame and level—little above natural
pitch—no music, no display of vocal resources, none of that playing
on the voice as on an instrument, which is one of the crowning
achievements of our craft. Their way of walking the stage was
undignified, and unimpressive, in fact scarcely to he distinguished
from the movement of people in ordinary life. Their low-comedy

man missed no end of laughs, by want of all power, apparently, of
what in the playful phraseology of our calling, we call ' sticking it
into 'em ; " and I saw at least six palpable opportunities of making
a brilliant point, and bringing down the house to a dead certainty,
missed by the'obtuseness or incapacity of the leading man. In a
word, Sir, I never saw so many bits of fat so shamefully thrown
away by the rawest tyros in a country theatre.

I must say, however, that their dramatists are almost as much to
blame for this as their actors. The scenes I saw were rarely worked
up to what I should call a climax ; exit speeches seemed, as a rule,
wanting. Even the Act often ended quite flatly and quietly ; and
the drop hardly fell once upon a tableau. I saw then how much
many of our pieces adapted from the French owe to their English
adapters. The adaptation has often a richness and fulness of stage
effect, of which only the hint appeared in the French work. In
short, Sir, the whole performance struck me as "stale, flat, and
unprofitable " to a British actor. I would engage to teach any
performer I saw any number of dodges for bringing down the house.
I flatter myself I saw none of them who could teach me anything.
Besides, Sir, I observed, as might be expected, a grievous want of
that self-respect, that recognition of what a man owes to theatrical
position, to say nothing of personal dignity, which, I am happy to say,
still characterises the British actor. I actually saw a M. Delaunay,
who, I am told, is the leading juvenile man of the company, going
on in livery to carry a message ! May the day be far distant when
a British leading-man stoops to such degradation !

Like most things French, Sir, depend upon it, French acting is a
swindle, and all the puffing of it in our Press, prejudice. To sum
up all my objections to it in one word, it is un-English m the
highest degree.

I remain, Mr. Punch, your Constant Reader,

Opie Wing.

*** Open to an engagement for the legitimate lead and blank-
verse heavies: may be heard of at the Wrekin Tavern, and by
letter, at the Era Office.

Paying for a Whistle.

What shall we have to show for the additional Income-tax of
£3,000,000, to be levied for the purpose of national defence, on a
part of the nation. An Army adequate to that purpose P And how
soon ? In the meanwhile, friends, we have nothing to show for the
enormous sum which will be extorted from the favoured classes.

classical intelligence.

" Pot atvrus te saluto/'" exclaimed young Flukek, fresh from
Oxford, as he was on the point at billiards of making a "pot"
stroke._____

The Height of Economy.—A " Screw" of Tobacco.