Punch (95.1888)

196

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[October 27, 1888.

CHURCH AMD STAGE; OR, ST. JAMES'S THEATRE.

The Dean's Daughter is an unwholesome, unpleasant, poorly-
constructed play, with here and there some sharp, flashy writing,
which is more acrimonious than amusing.
As novel-readers know, The Dean's
Daughter is by
the author of
Ariane and As
in a Looking
Glass, which
last was the
novel that
made Mr.
Philips's re-
putation.

Ariane dra-
matised was a
repul si vely
realistic, but
decidedlypow-
erful drama.
In it virtue was
not rewarded,
as there was
none to reward;
but vice was
punished, and
the existence of

all the unprin- The Very Rev. Rutland Bar-
M. Lafontaine in the street oipled, godless rington in the dress of the Dean
of the Dean, Soho. "Per- dramatis per- °f st- James's. " J'y dine;
fectly Ahhe ! " s 0 n <b w a s J 7 reste !

shown to be thoroughly miserable. But in this play at the St. James's
the Divorce Court, like " the "VVaverley Pen," comes "like a boon
and a blessing to men," and women, too, and such small virtue as
there is in the piece, or what the authors would have us accept as a
substitute for virtue, is rewarded by Messrs. Grundy and Philips
by giving the divorced woman in marriage to the nominal co-respon-
dent (after he has shot another would-be co-respondent, his rival),
who clasps her to his manly breast in the presence of. her former
husband (whom the divorce has freed in order to continue a liaison
with somebody else), and of a third lover—a mere boy who might as
well have been in Eton jacket and turn-down collars, with apples
and sweets in his pocket,—whose hand and fortune this injured
innocent, introduced into Society under an assumed name, has just
accepted._ On this "heroine of the Divorce Court," before or after
her marriage, an audience cannot waste its sympathy, as before
marriage she is not in love with anybody,—though she foresees the
probability of her being so with somebody after marrying the wrong
person,—and, with her eyes open very wide indeed, she allows herself
to be induced by her reprobate father, whom she despises, and her
odious companion, Mrs. Fortescue, to marry a fortune and a title.

Miriam St. Aubyn [is an ungrateful part, prettily and cleverly, if
not brilliantly, played by Miss Olga Nethersole, who is possessed of
considerable emotional power, can rise to dignity of action, and has
the true touch of pathos in her voice. She comes from the Adelphi
to play the daughter of the Dean, and her place in The Union Jack
is taken by another of the Dean family,—Dorothy Dene. Another
coincidence is, that the Christian name of Lady Ashwell in the piece
is Dorothea, and as she is to marry the Rev. Augustus St. Aubyn,
she also will be a Dorothy Dean.

I suppose the somewhat scrappy dialogue is mainly taken from the
novel, and of this Miss Hill has all the telling lines, which, intended
to be the comic relief of the piece, she delivers as though she were
once more C'ynisca, in modern costume, impersonating a sort of
vixenish chorus, making a running commentary on the action. Does
Miss Hill correctly interpret the Authors ?

Sir Henry Craven is one of the line of old diplomatists that com-
menced, I fancy, with Baron Stein. Here, he.is a dummy Sir Peter
Teazle, who marries a young girl in the country, and then reminds
her of what she was before she became his wife. This Sir Peter
should have been stuffed full of good things, and killed in the entr'acte
after Act III., when he would have died deeply regretted by a
numerous Dress Circle. As it is, he has little to do, nothing worth
hearing to say, and reappears inopportunely as Lord Anticlimax in
Act IV., just in time to spoil a fairly effective dramatic situation.

Miss Adrienne Dairolles, as the French Maid, is uncommonly
good. How she would suit that wicked French part in Bleak House !
Prince Balanikoff., the would-be co-respondent of foreign extraction,
looks like a melancholy Polish Jew, and his walk reminded me of the
little mechanical tin-toy man drawing the cart, of whom we've seen
so much recently, taking his exercise in the streets. Miss Hill says
" Ta, Ta, Prince" to him. This exactly describes him. When the
Russian is scratched, you find the Tar-Tar Prince underneath, and
his violent scene is his best, melodramatic though it must necessarily

be. Last, but certainly not least, comes the Very Revd. Rutland
Barrington, Dean of St. James's. He looks the Dean as well as
did the late John Clayton, but he is so intimately associated with
Mr. Gilbert's Vicar, who wore much the same costume in The
Sorcerer, that any audience would never be surprised were he to
step forward and, to Mr. Arhbruster's excellent accompaniment,
sing, "Ah me, I was a pale young Curate then." Perhaps Jester
George will provide him with lyrics describing his regret at having
quitted that company with the refrain, "Ah me, I was a stout
young Actor then!" But, pooh, bah! He is Manager now and
Comedy actor. He has to play a part in which there is little wit and
no finesse; it is the Reverend Mr. Pecksniff and Lady Ashwell
is his Mrs. Toclgers. But Pecksniff, sober or inebriated, was amusing,
and then in the end, he failed in his villany, and was only let off
with a sound thrashing. The Dean is unpunished, for the possible
loss of Lady Toclgers' hand and fortune wouldn't affect him very
much. The best-played scene, which does not owe much to the
writing, is the one between Mr. Lewis "Waller and Miss Nether-
sole, when the heavy haberdashery-young-man kind of lover tells
Miriam that her wishes are his commands, and says farewell for
ever—only to reappear in the same place five minutes afterwards.

The play is preceded by a One-Act Comedy called A Patron Saint.
At present the St. James s Management must be contented with one
Saint as a Patron for the evil Dean's doings. 1 fancy the patro-
nage will not be considerable, either of saints or sinners.

To come from such exceptionally unwholesome "homeproduce" as
The Dean's Daughter to so exceptionally wholesome a French piece
as L'Abbe Constantin, is as refreshing as escaping from an infected
atmosphere into the pure air. M. Laeontaine is perfect as the Abbe,
a genuine French type. The delicacy of his art is a study, but there
is no call upon him for any strongly emotional acting. The two young
men's parts are fairly acted. Miss Jane May, " My Pretty Jane,"
is not seen to advantage, and the piece, though pretty and simple
enough, is deficient in any real dramatic interest. On Thursday,
M. Laeontaine is to appear in Le Fits de Famille, and M. L'Abbe
should be reserved for occasional Matinees. Jacic-in-the-Box.

DUE NORTH.

Evenings at Lochglennie— Weather Notes—Finale.

Otm evenings are lively. Miss Millie plays the piano, Miss
Evelyn is a violonist, and Miss Madge a banjoist. They all know
each other's music, and can play from memory almost any song or
air that may be "inquired for."

D. B. is a proficient on the penny whistle, and Dolly White is a
master of a small, peculiar-shaped instrument, of Italian nation-
ality, called, I think, the occarina, which, when placed close to the
performer's lips, makes him look as if he were doing a conjuring trick,
and pretending to swallow a baby's shoe. Grannie plays a mirloton,
which he has brought from Paris. The Baron's instrument is the
cornet-a-pistons, but, as the Good Aunt, who is our sole audience,
declares she cannot possibly stay in the room with that noise, we
insist on the Baron performing with a pocket-handkerchief stuffed
into the cornet, the effect of which is very much as if he were
playing it under the bedclothes. The Laird has made a life-long
study of the side-drum. From his earliest years he was always
attached to it, and it was attached to him,—by a string. Now his
performance on it is that of a Professor. He^ is a Master of the Rolls.

"Very few people," he says, when he finds you are inclined to
talk seriously on the subject, "very few people know what there is
to be got out of a drum. It is not all noise. How effective it is at
military funerals, muffled! "

This seems rather a gloomy view to take of it. When an invi-
tation is sent to the Laird to attend a funeral, do they add on his
particular card, " and bring your drum, muffled" ? I don't like to
ask this, and he continues, "it is the universal instrument. All
nations have the drum."

"And chickens have drumsticks," puts in D. B. And by way of
showing us that his remark was not meant seriously, he nods at me
and says, " How are you ? "

The Laird insists on my being provided with an instrument. The
Wicked Uncle refuses to resign the triangle, which, he protests
pathetically, he has played since the second night he came here, and
wants to know why I shouldn't have the fire-irons, as he had when
he first arrived ? This proposition seems to be considered as fair and
just, and so Grannie hands me the poker and shovel, with which I
have to serve my apprenticeship as it were, with the reversion of the
triangle, on the departure of the Wicked Uncle. We are all in our
places, with Miss Millie at the piano. The orchestra is wonderfully
successful. Perhaps the most effective of the morceaux is a song
sung by D. B., entitled " The Man that struck O'llara," which
offers peculiarly fine opportunities for the side-drum and the fire-
irons. There is one part—a pause—where the chorus leaves off, and
only the side-drum and the fire-irons come in with one tremendous
crash, illustrating the force with which "the man that struck