DOI issue:
July to December, 1853
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16612#0096
84
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
IMAGINARY PLAY-BILL.
We observe that at one of the Metropolitan theatres an endeavour
has been made to dramatise The Times. We admit some curiosity to
know in what way the leading journal has been adapted to the purposes
of the Stage. During this hot weather it is of. course impossible
for us to visit the theatre ; but in the mean time we have drawn upon
our melodramatic reminiscences, and have sketched what we suppose
must be the playbill of The Times. We are, however, open to convic-
tion, should our anticipations have been inadequate.
ACT ONE.
Scene 1.—Printing House Square, by moonlight. A policeman on
duty. Clank of the steampress heard amid the silence, and
distant plash of the river. Coronetted carriage driven hastily in.
Beautiful and fashionable lady, in opera costume, alights. Her
agitation. “ He must he saved.” Siie dashes hastily into the
building. Policeman saunters up and examines arms on carriage,
and the next moment is recognised by the flunkey. “ Ha! my
Lord.” “'Silence, my faithful Jeemes.” Resumes his walk.
Lights seen along a passage—mysterious lady is being conducted
to the Editorial Chamber !
Scene 2.—The Strand. Meeting of two Reporters, one coming up
from the House of Commons, the other going down. “ Likely
to sit?” “Another hour—Irish row.” “Bless those Irish!”
“Amen.” They part—exit Reporter to the House. The other
lights a cigar, and three ruffians spring out upon him. They have
long Macintosh coats, but beneath the disguise is seen the
glittering uniform of the Guards. “ You bring the wepawt of
Lord Namby Macpamby’s Speech!” “I have?’ “Hand it
over.” “ With my life only.” They seize him, but he dashes his
cigar into the face of the first, and wrestles with the second, but
would be over-mastered by the third, when the latter is dashed to
the earth. Two run away, the last is prisoner. “ But, who is my
preserver?” “Sir, I am but a numble actor, but you were once
kyind to me in a notice of my Clown in the Pantermine, and, believe
me. Sir, kyindness is like the gentle jew from eaven, ichicli droppeth,
8fc?’ They drag the prisoner beneath a lamp. “ The Right
Honourable the Marquis op Haughtycastle ! Ha, minion !”
“ Nay, let him go—my numble Friend. I know the game. A Lady’s
Secret.”
SceneS.—Same as first. Beautiful woman comes out in tears. “He
was most courteous, but firm as the monumental adamant?'1 She
enters the carriage, and throws herself sobbing on the cushion.
Policeman springs in after her, and seating himself opposite,
throws his bull’s-eye full on her face. “My husband!” “Aye,
wrrrretched woman. Drive on, Jeemes.5’ (In a voice of thunder.)
“ HOME ! ” (With intense irony,) “ Your home. Madam; yours,
once loved Coronettina.”
ACT TWO.
The House of Commons. Yery full. Cries of “Order, order!”
Clamour increases, and no one can be heard. Eifty Members on
their legs, trying to speak. Lord John Russell springs upon
the table and gesticulates violently; but all that can be heard
from him, is “ Obleege,” and “ Constitution?’ Mr. Disraeli
dashes his hand furiously upon the Green Box, which gives way,
and all his oranges roll out. Scramble and comic business.
Lord IMamby Macpamby rises, dressed in the extreme of fashion,
and also extremely tipsy. Terrific cries of “ Spoke, spoke !” The
Chairman of Committees falls on his knees and pleads for silence,
but sinks beneath the volley of blue books, votes, and bills,
instantly hurled at him from all the Members. Suddenly the
Speaker rushes in, seizes the mace, and lays about him on every
side. Members are knocked over one another. Tremendous
confusion ! Eights !—and Curtain.
ACT THREE.
The Editor’s Ante-Chamber. Several of the Ministers waiting to
see him; some with glittering stars, blue ribbons, &c. A door
opens (centre), and an eminent Stockjobber is kicked into the
middle of the scene, and falls—a huge bag of sovereigns in each
hand. Bags burst, and the gold strews the stage. “I offered
£500,000 for leave to put in one article?’ Proud tribute to the
British Press. Porters sweep up the gold, and throw it out at
window, and the Stockjobber alter it. Enter Lord Asterisk
dragging the beautiful lady. “ Ha ! you here, my. lords ! But Us
well. She appealed to the “ Times,” ancl I have brought her hither.”
Lady on her knees—back hair down. “ I am innocent—indeed I
am innocent.” “I am not to be juped. Madam?’ “I sioear it?’ “I
l^lieve you not. Your adorers, in disguise, have been staining the
pure streets of our proud Metropolis with ruffianism. But in vain.
Madam.” “In vain! Wretched me!” “Now by all that is
sulphureous”—(he draws the sword usually worn by the British
aristocrat)—“ HOLD ! ! ! ” Awful appearance of the Editor.
“ Mistaken nobleman ! She came but to save her Brother, Lord
Namby Macpamby. He has spoken in the House to-night, and
knowing what a dreadful fool he is, she wished his speech suppressed,
that your brother-in-law’s idiotcy might not be published all over the
world?’ “ Her brother ! And those Guardsmen ! ” “ Her cousins.”
“ Ow ! ow ! ow ! Can you forgive me, Coronettina ? ” “Am I
not your wife, dearest?” The Editor, moved, tears up Lord
Namby Macpamby’s speech. “ One husk will not be missed amid
so much chaff.”
Affecting Denouement!
LESSON EOR INNOCENT CABMEN.
Sing a song of Sixpence,
“ A pocket-full!” says I.
Eour-and-twenty farthings ?
That’s all my eye!
But my eye was opened—
A summons he did seek ;
And wasn’t that a pretty case
To bring before the Beak ?
The Beak was on his judgment-seat
A fining swell coves money;
And Punch was perch’d ’longside him.
Grinning precious funny.
Eitzroy had, in the Commons,
Been pickling us a rod;
And off went the prison van.
And took me to Quod!
The Road in 1853.
The days of the Highwaymen are over: but that need not be la-
mented by the admirers of the robbers of the good old times. The
Highwaymen have been succeeded by the Railwaymen.
THE EETAL1ST.
The Eirst Emperor left behind him a “ Napoleon Book of Eate.”
The Second Emperor promises to enrich the history of Erance with a
“ Napoleon Book of Petes.”
Too Mhcii and Too Little.—The man who believes too little may
be safer than the man who believes too much; but it is a question if,
through life, he knows half as much pleasure.
Russian Impudence.—A celebrated Diplomatist who lisps a little,
being asked to define Russian Impndencet answered very significantly
“ Whv. ith’s beyond Pruth 1 ”
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
IMAGINARY PLAY-BILL.
We observe that at one of the Metropolitan theatres an endeavour
has been made to dramatise The Times. We admit some curiosity to
know in what way the leading journal has been adapted to the purposes
of the Stage. During this hot weather it is of. course impossible
for us to visit the theatre ; but in the mean time we have drawn upon
our melodramatic reminiscences, and have sketched what we suppose
must be the playbill of The Times. We are, however, open to convic-
tion, should our anticipations have been inadequate.
ACT ONE.
Scene 1.—Printing House Square, by moonlight. A policeman on
duty. Clank of the steampress heard amid the silence, and
distant plash of the river. Coronetted carriage driven hastily in.
Beautiful and fashionable lady, in opera costume, alights. Her
agitation. “ He must he saved.” Siie dashes hastily into the
building. Policeman saunters up and examines arms on carriage,
and the next moment is recognised by the flunkey. “ Ha! my
Lord.” “'Silence, my faithful Jeemes.” Resumes his walk.
Lights seen along a passage—mysterious lady is being conducted
to the Editorial Chamber !
Scene 2.—The Strand. Meeting of two Reporters, one coming up
from the House of Commons, the other going down. “ Likely
to sit?” “Another hour—Irish row.” “Bless those Irish!”
“Amen.” They part—exit Reporter to the House. The other
lights a cigar, and three ruffians spring out upon him. They have
long Macintosh coats, but beneath the disguise is seen the
glittering uniform of the Guards. “ You bring the wepawt of
Lord Namby Macpamby’s Speech!” “I have?’ “Hand it
over.” “ With my life only.” They seize him, but he dashes his
cigar into the face of the first, and wrestles with the second, but
would be over-mastered by the third, when the latter is dashed to
the earth. Two run away, the last is prisoner. “ But, who is my
preserver?” “Sir, I am but a numble actor, but you were once
kyind to me in a notice of my Clown in the Pantermine, and, believe
me. Sir, kyindness is like the gentle jew from eaven, ichicli droppeth,
8fc?’ They drag the prisoner beneath a lamp. “ The Right
Honourable the Marquis op Haughtycastle ! Ha, minion !”
“ Nay, let him go—my numble Friend. I know the game. A Lady’s
Secret.”
SceneS.—Same as first. Beautiful woman comes out in tears. “He
was most courteous, but firm as the monumental adamant?'1 She
enters the carriage, and throws herself sobbing on the cushion.
Policeman springs in after her, and seating himself opposite,
throws his bull’s-eye full on her face. “My husband!” “Aye,
wrrrretched woman. Drive on, Jeemes.5’ (In a voice of thunder.)
“ HOME ! ” (With intense irony,) “ Your home. Madam; yours,
once loved Coronettina.”
ACT TWO.
The House of Commons. Yery full. Cries of “Order, order!”
Clamour increases, and no one can be heard. Eifty Members on
their legs, trying to speak. Lord John Russell springs upon
the table and gesticulates violently; but all that can be heard
from him, is “ Obleege,” and “ Constitution?’ Mr. Disraeli
dashes his hand furiously upon the Green Box, which gives way,
and all his oranges roll out. Scramble and comic business.
Lord IMamby Macpamby rises, dressed in the extreme of fashion,
and also extremely tipsy. Terrific cries of “ Spoke, spoke !” The
Chairman of Committees falls on his knees and pleads for silence,
but sinks beneath the volley of blue books, votes, and bills,
instantly hurled at him from all the Members. Suddenly the
Speaker rushes in, seizes the mace, and lays about him on every
side. Members are knocked over one another. Tremendous
confusion ! Eights !—and Curtain.
ACT THREE.
The Editor’s Ante-Chamber. Several of the Ministers waiting to
see him; some with glittering stars, blue ribbons, &c. A door
opens (centre), and an eminent Stockjobber is kicked into the
middle of the scene, and falls—a huge bag of sovereigns in each
hand. Bags burst, and the gold strews the stage. “I offered
£500,000 for leave to put in one article?’ Proud tribute to the
British Press. Porters sweep up the gold, and throw it out at
window, and the Stockjobber alter it. Enter Lord Asterisk
dragging the beautiful lady. “ Ha ! you here, my. lords ! But Us
well. She appealed to the “ Times,” ancl I have brought her hither.”
Lady on her knees—back hair down. “ I am innocent—indeed I
am innocent.” “I am not to be juped. Madam?’ “I sioear it?’ “I
l^lieve you not. Your adorers, in disguise, have been staining the
pure streets of our proud Metropolis with ruffianism. But in vain.
Madam.” “In vain! Wretched me!” “Now by all that is
sulphureous”—(he draws the sword usually worn by the British
aristocrat)—“ HOLD ! ! ! ” Awful appearance of the Editor.
“ Mistaken nobleman ! She came but to save her Brother, Lord
Namby Macpamby. He has spoken in the House to-night, and
knowing what a dreadful fool he is, she wished his speech suppressed,
that your brother-in-law’s idiotcy might not be published all over the
world?’ “ Her brother ! And those Guardsmen ! ” “ Her cousins.”
“ Ow ! ow ! ow ! Can you forgive me, Coronettina ? ” “Am I
not your wife, dearest?” The Editor, moved, tears up Lord
Namby Macpamby’s speech. “ One husk will not be missed amid
so much chaff.”
Affecting Denouement!
LESSON EOR INNOCENT CABMEN.
Sing a song of Sixpence,
“ A pocket-full!” says I.
Eour-and-twenty farthings ?
That’s all my eye!
But my eye was opened—
A summons he did seek ;
And wasn’t that a pretty case
To bring before the Beak ?
The Beak was on his judgment-seat
A fining swell coves money;
And Punch was perch’d ’longside him.
Grinning precious funny.
Eitzroy had, in the Commons,
Been pickling us a rod;
And off went the prison van.
And took me to Quod!
The Road in 1853.
The days of the Highwaymen are over: but that need not be la-
mented by the admirers of the robbers of the good old times. The
Highwaymen have been succeeded by the Railwaymen.
THE EETAL1ST.
The Eirst Emperor left behind him a “ Napoleon Book of Eate.”
The Second Emperor promises to enrich the history of Erance with a
“ Napoleon Book of Petes.”
Too Mhcii and Too Little.—The man who believes too little may
be safer than the man who believes too much; but it is a question if,
through life, he knows half as much pleasure.
Russian Impudence.—A celebrated Diplomatist who lisps a little,
being asked to define Russian Impndencet answered very significantly
“ Whv. ith’s beyond Pruth 1 ”