Punch (52.1867)

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

221

1

Junk 1, 1867.]

i

Swell (who won’t be done). “ H’yars my Kyard if you’d—ah—-like to
Summon me.”

Cabby {who has pulled up and heard the dispute). “ Don’t you take it, Bill.
It’s his Ticket o’ Leave ! ”

PUZZLED.

I’m sick, 0 Compound Householder,

Of thee and of thy claims,

Thou Proteus of the Commonwealth,

One shape of many names !

Whether thou art old England’s pride,

Or doomed to work her fall,—

The running sore of city life.

Or the best class of all,—

Whether thy rates thou pay’st in rent,

Or part, or all, or none,—

Whether, if not compounded for.

Tenant, or landlord’s done,—

WTiether, when thou hast registered,

The franchise thou wilt prize,—
Whether in social scale or price
The man or vote will rise,—

Whether thou ’It tend to pipe and pot,

Or quite the other way,—

Whether thou ’It rush to swamp the poll,
Or stay supine away,—

Whether corruption’s upas-growth
Checked by thy means will be.

Or bribes and bribers, nothing loath,

Eind a new field in thee,—

Whether the Tenements Eating Act
Perforce should be the law,—

Whether ’tis true Sir William Clay
Has made or cured a flaw,-—■

Whether in Gladstone’s reasoning,

Or Dizzy’s to-confide,—

To whom pin faith, whose view accept.
And for whose view divide,—

Who ’ll tell a helpless true-blue Squire
Who fain would do what’s right,

But gets confused ’twixt Ayes and Noes,
And hears his black called white :

Who sees things topsy-turvy turned,
Finds heads where tails should be.

And feels he’s aiding. Deuce knows how,
To arm Democracy!

OUR THEATRICAL SPECTATOR.

“ Spectatum admissi pacem teneatis, amici.”

Horace (a trifle altered).

When at the play, my Brown or Jones,

Please only talk in under-tones.

Having the good fortune, as my friends jocosely term it, of lately
marrying a wife somewhat younger than myself, I have frequently the
happiness of being dragged out after dinner to a play-house or an opera.
As compensation for the trouble which these gaddings out entail on
me, 1 have the benefit of hearing her remarks on the performances, and
these amuse me more than what I either see or hear upon the stage,
for unluckily I am no novice at a theatre. The other night she whis-
pered that Pollio, she thought, would look more like a Roman if he
wore a Roman nose, and she added, “But if I were Norma, and knew
his nose was false, I should revenge my wrongs by pulling it.” Again,
a minute or two afterwards, she wondered if the Druids really were
as ugly as they look upon the stage, and whether, when they sung,
they used such uncouth gestures, and made faces so grotesque, as are
shown by those who now are hired to represent them.

Artless prattle such as this it is no uncommon thing to hear at a per-
formance, and doubtless there are ears which are not displeased by
hearing it. Some play-goers, however, have ears which are not long
ones, and prefer them to be filled with the sense that may perchance be
talked upon the stage, rather than the nonsense overheard among the
audience. It is not pleasant in the middle of a noble scene by Shaks-
peare to hear the twitter of Jocasta, or the twaddle of Belinda, and
when a gentleman has paid a guinea for a stall, the chance is he would
rather hear the melodies of Meyerbeer than the gabble he could
gratis listen to at home.

It is difficult for a woman, I well know, to hold her tongue, and as
women form a large proportion of our play-goers, one of course cannot
expect that conversation at a theatre will altogether cease when the cur-
tain is uplifted. Still, it ought to be discountenanced as a really selfish
practice, and husbands would do well to preach a little sermon on the
virtue of silence, except between the acts, whenever they escort their
wives and daughters to a theatre.

Some plays there are, however, that an audience might prattle-
through, from the first scene to the last, without causing any loss to |
any would-be listener. Such a one may now be seen at a theatre
whereof the name will readily occur to those who lately have attended*
it. Here the plot is as improbable as the dialogue is dull; and the
goodness of the scenery only serves to call attention to the badness of
the piece. An advertisement proclaims that it pleases people mightily,
but I doubt if an advertisement can make it a success. The applause
when I was present came chiefly from the gallery, which is not the
best paying portion of the house. It is a pity that a company well
fitted to act comedy should have to waste their powers on a dreary
“ comic drama,” wherein the only comic incident is a face besmeared-
with jam.

To me few contrasts are more grateful than to enjoy the entertain-
ment of an evening spent with Siiakspeare, after suffering the penance
of sitting through a stupid piece. What ample scope he gives for
scenery and decoration, yet how little he requires them to make a play
attractive! Who feels the need of scenery, that hears the glowing
poetry wherein Enobarbus paints the voyage of Cleopatra? What
artist could so vividly depict her pomp and grandeur ? The play, as-
acted now-o’-nights, has great scenic attractions, but they only show
that. Shakspeare was the greater scene-painter.

Good actresses are scarce now, and should be seen when visible.
The lady who performs the part of Cleopatra seems fittingly impressed
with a due reverence for the poet, and delivers all her speeches with
propriety and care. Having aforetime shown great skill hi her con-
ception of the character, she now brings her maturity of judgment to
improve it, and represents the queen most worthily in all her vanity
and petulance, her passion, anguish, and despair. LYili Waddle.

From the Shades.

The Ladies in Paris are wearing a new colour “ Bismarck en
colere.” What is he angry about ? Luxemburg ? Then instead of
this novelty being denominated, as it is, a light brown, ought it not to
I be called a done brown ?