Punch (44.1863)

March 14, 1863.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

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A NEW DODGE FOR A DRAMATIST.

Certain Play writer has, re-
cently put forward an ad-
vertisement claiming: copy-
right in a drama he has
founded on a novel written
fifty years ago, and announc-
ing that he means to hurl
the terrors of the law against
ariy one who dares to dress
that story for the stage, or
to use a single word of the
“ original dialogue,” or to
adopt a single incident, effect
or situation transplanted
from the novel to the adver-
tiser’s piece. Now, surely,
if old novels be held by
any law Court to be the
property of any dramatist
who happens to lay hold of
them, the same rule might
apply with equal justice to
old plays, and a copyright in
Shakspeare, say, be claimed
by any writer who might
“ re-arrange ” the incidents,
and make some little altera-
tion in the dialogue and plot.
Eor instance, were a drama-
tist to re-construct Othello
in the manner we hereunder
venture to suggest, he of
course could claim a copy-
right in the incidents and
dialogue of the play as Shakspeare wrote it, and nobody could act
Othello without paying the adapter, say, a five-pound note per night:—

Scene—A Bed-chamber. Large Four-poster, C. Washing-stand and

Towel-liorse, L.H. Toilette-table and big wardrobe, R. Desdemona
seated, combing her back hair before retiring for the night. Slow
music. Flash of lightning. Noise of wheels icithout. Desdemona
looks through lcey-hole, and then blows the candles out and hides her-
self in wardrobe. Thunder.

Enter Othello, masked, a revolver in one hand, and a dark lantern in

the other.

Oth. To be, or not to be ? Ay, there’s the rub !

[N.B. The re-arrangement of these words is registered.]

I that am cruel, am yet merciful,

I would not have her linger in her pain.

[Loads his revolver sloivly, putting six balls into each of the six
barrels. Clock strikes twelve. (N.B. This dramatic incident is
strictly copyright.)

’Tis now the very witching hour of night.

When churchyards yawn, and cats on tiles do fight.

[Draws a big bowie-knife from behind his back, and begins to sharpen it.
Is it a dagger that I see before me ?

I think it is (sighs deeply). Yet I ’ll not shed her blood.

[ Wardrobe trembles visibly. Othello pockets bowie-knife, and opens
his dark lantern.

If I quench thee, thou flaming minister, {does so)

I can at will thy former light restore.

If I ’ve a Ipcifer.

[Feels in all his pockets, and at length finds a match-box, and relights
the lantern. (N.B. The whole of this impressive and ingenious
stage business is registered as copyright.)

Yet she must die, or she’ll betray more men.

[Creeps on tiptoe towards bed. Slow music. Flash of lightning,
'd ardrobe trembles violently. Othello stealthily undraws the
curtains, and discovers the bed empty.

Q my prophetic soul! my wife! my wife !

My wife? What wife? Alas, I have no wife.

[Throws away revolver, groans and buries head beneath the bolster.
Slow music. Beal of thunder. Wardrobe opens with a bang
(upon the big drum), and Desdemona rushes out with all her
back hair down, and takes a most tremendous header from the
window, shrieking “ Murder ! Fire!! Police!!!”

Enter Emilia, instantly, looking very much as though she had been

listening at the keyhole.

Em. Help! help! hoa! murder! help! hoa! murder! help!

Oth. {calmly). What needs this iterance, woman ?

[Takes her by the throat, and attempts to strangle her. Sensation
struggle.

Enter Cassio and Montano, followed by Iago, handcuffed and attended

by eleven soldiers.

Mon. What is the matter ? How now, general ?
iEm. Oh, are you come, Iago ? You have done well
That men must lay their murthers on your neck.

Oth. Perdition catch thy soul! peace! peace! I say. [Strangles her.

[ago. What, are you mad?—{to soldiers)—I charge you, get you
home. [Exeunt soldiers, Iago prepares to follow them.

Oth. Tarn, hell-hound, turn ! 1 ’m made of sterner stuff,

And damned be he who first cries, “ Hold, enough ! ”

[Terrific broadsword combat to slow music for an hour and three
quarters.—(N.B. Every cut and thrust in this is strictly copy-
right.)—After the encore, which is sure to be produced, Othello
stabs Iago, and having wiped his weapon carefully, hands it to
Montano.

Oth. Set you down this—

[Montano puts it on the table, and proceeds to exit.

Oth. Soft you, a word before you go.

[ Picks up his revolver, and cocks it menacingly.
When you shall these unlucky deeds relate,

You ’ll say besides that in Aleppo once
I took by the throat a circumvented dog,

And shot him—thus !

[Shoots himself six times, a lurid flash of lightning accompanying each
shot. Peal of thunder. Blaze of blue fire. Curtain falls.—
(N. B. The copyright of this dramatic incident is reserved.)

Vivat Regina ! Borrowers, Beware ! !

PRIESTS AND PENITENTS.

The Siecle indiscreetly publishes the fact that a certain Pierre
Gaultier, vicar of Champdeniers, has been found guilty of scandalous
conduct. We are informed that:—

“ His reprehensible amours took place in the Church confessional, a very youthful
female being his victim. He has been condemned to a year’s imprisonment and
fine for these offences.”

It may he that the foregoing particulars are fictitious, and that the
Siecle will be warned or suppressed for the publication of false news,
tending to bring the priesthood and the confessional into odium and
contempt. It is, to be sure, just possible that the confessioual may
be abused in the manner above indicated. Indeed we are not only told
so in La Sorciere, by M. Michelet, hut also by a cloud of Roman
Catholic witnesses in a celebrated libel case which occurred a few years
ago. What then ? When parents and guardians allow young ladies to
go and confess, they can send big brothers or footmen to look after
them. You always should, Paterfamilias and tutor.

If justice were so administered in Prance as the Holy See would
wish it to be, the case of the reverend Pa!her Confessor Pierre
Gaultier' would have been disposed of in secret by an ecclesiastical
court, and the profane public would have known nothing about it. May
be the priesthood would not have been too hard upon an erring brother.
M. le Pere Pierre Gaultier, however, some people will think, could
scarcely have been let down lighter than he was by the secular tribunal
which gave him only a year and a fine of 200 lr. But lay Judges are
perhaps incapable of making sufficiently liberal allowance for the ope-
ration of an ecclesiastical law of celibacy. Bather Gaultier, might
have escaped with a correction even gentler than the mildest punish-
ment suitable for a scoundrel, if he had only enjoyed the advantage of
being tried by his professional peers.

MUSICAL NOTES.

A Correspondent, signing himself “ A Constant Reader in the Shop
Windows,” requests information concerning a few matters of music.
In the first place he asks, “ Does Mr. Alfred Mellon, when playing
whist, imagine himself at the head of a Brass Band, and invariably lead
trumps ? ” We do not know; but beg to remind the constant one, that
when the talented gentleman above mentioned does lead them, it will
be always in good time. What next ? “ Does Signor Costa, after
paying a visit, conduct himself to the door?” We shan’t tell; but
will just add, by the way, that if Constant Reader doesn’t put a head
of las own (if he’s got one) on his letters, we shall not trouble oura
about him. Somebody else asks us, if the Music of the Spheres is worth
anything? He says “ that he lias heard it called ‘Eternal Music.’”
This latter remark settles the question. We confidently assert, that the
“ Eternal Music of the Spheres ” cannot be good, because it is played
out of time.

Antiquarian Note.—In the Middle Ages the Knights put their
heads in Casques. To show how much they bad got in the casques,
i they invariably tapped their noses.

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