Punch: Punch (83.1882)

November 25, 1882.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

245

Rich and racy, too, is the vein of merriment in which, looking
precisely like what he did in the First Act, he announces his convic-
tion that the beard he has grown on the Continent has disguised him.
All this is excellent fooling; but when Mr. Kelly, who plays a rather
undecided Farmer, with a force and robustness worthy of better
things, is seen pursuing him all over the ihree hundred acres of
Farmer Peer’s property with a formidable and highly-polished pitch-
fork, hut never exactly coming up with him, the climax of practical
joking seemed to have been reached by the Laureate; and though it
was felt to be just as well that Mr. Yezin escaped the pitch-fork, it
was admitted on all hands that, in so doing, he really missed the
only two points in the Piece.

Yet, full as are Acts One and Two of screamingly funny business,
Act Three, to the infinite credit of the Author, is quite equal to them.
And here the Scenic Artist determined to have his laugh along
with everybody else. The labourers who come to be paid in “ the
Upper Hall in Steer's Farm" enter it by a staircase,—or, as the
Punster-Laureate has it, a steer-case—which, if it lead anywhere,
must take them directly on to the roof. But at this stage of the
proceedings it seems quite natural that they should get out of the
house in some such playful fashion. Indeed, it is almost with a
feeling akin to disappointment one has to record that a great oppor-
tunity is missed in Mr. Harold Edgar Yezin’s last entrance. He
should certainly have come down the chimney.

However, with so much genuine pantomime go for the finish in
reserve, very possibly the Author knew what he was about. And
he was not at fault. He must have realised what depths of quiet
fun would be stirred when placing Mrs. Bernard Beere, over the
dead body of Eva, he made her in so many words courteously request

Farmer Hobson and
the Comic Agnostic
4 4 to consider them-
selves quite at home,
'and not mind the
corpse, as she had a
few general remarks
to make that wouldn’t
take her much more
than five-and-twenty
minutes.”

This capitally-con-
ceived and well-timed
hit of badinage, as
might have been ex-
pected, tickled the
audience immensely,
and it scarcely needed
The Corpse and the Beere. the stealthy departure

of Mr. Harold Edgar

Yezin on a tour beyond “the furthest stile,” to which destination
he is “ personally conducted” by Mr. Kelly with a thundering
hop-pole, to warrant the despatch of a telegram to Mr. Tennyson,
to the effect that there wasn’t a dry eye in the house.

But there,—the matter really defies sober criticism, and, taking
his own charming lines from the bill, the story is soon told :—

The Town hooked well for the opening night,

The Pit was fall—an evident pull,

The Grand Old Man had a box of his own,

And Vezin behind said it looked all right,

And the Critics in front took an excellent tone.

There’s a chance for The Promise of May, of May,

There’s a chance for The Promise of May.

But a sly wink woke in the eye of the Town,

And a frivolous fit got hold of the Pit,

And Kelly a pitehfork, and Vezin a roar,

And the stock chaff followed the Curtain down ;

And the Critics they did—as they’ve done before—

'they slaughtered The Promise of May, of May,

They slaughtered The Promise of May !

The Laureate cannot write a playable play. But how is it that
Mr. Vezin, Mr. Kelly, and Mrs. Bernard-Beere & Co. accepted
such a piece, or, having accepted it blindly and deafly,■—without
1 hearing it read, we suppose,—how is it that they didn’t see its
absurdities during the careful rehearsals that they must have
given it, and were not struck by its utterly undramatic con-
I .struction and the feebleness of its dialogue ? The Falcon at the
St. James’s was saved by the acting ; Queen Mary nothing could
■save ; The Cup was the success of Miss Ellen Terry, Mr. I living, the
Scene-Painter, and the Stage Management. But the Promise of
May must be an Utter Frost, with, we are sorry to think, no Promise
to Pay in it; and nothing, except the spasmodic curiosity of the
Rublic to see what the Laureate can’t do, can set this unfortunate
Hurnpty-Lumpty up again. Perhaps this will be the last attempt
for some little time to come to get the scent of the hay across the

footlights. Neither Mr. Pinero nor Mr. Tennyson have lately suc-
ceeded in making sweet hay. Ne sutor—and let this be the
Laureate’s Last, and there’s an end of it.

A Case not provided for by the “ Queensberry Kules.”

“ He the Motive—and the ‘ Q, ’ for passion.”—Hamlet.

“ When my ‘ Q,’ comes, don’t call me.”

Vezin’s Winter's Night’s Dream.

TOUCHSTONE KE-TOUCHED.

“ The right butter-woman’s rank to market.”—As You Like It.

Are you as Amateur defined

By Fate’s fixed law ?—play Rosa-
lind.

Training for ’ the Stage means
44 grind ” ;

Shirk it, and—play Rosalind.

.Pockets must he somehow
lined ; *

One way is—play Rosalind.

If in Art you lack, or mind,

You may still play Rosalind.

If to your beauty men grow
blind,

To quicken them, play Rosalind.

If you’ve in social fame declined,
To rise anew, play Rosalind.

If dropped by bardlings who once
whined

Lays in your praise, play Rosa-
lind.

From the Strand to Western Ind
Star it, then, as Rosalind.
Sycophants to every wind
Will trump your praise as Rosa-
lind.

If candid Critics prove unkind,
What’s that to you? YYu’re
Rosalind.

* An ill-rhyme for which Touchstone himself is responsible.

“ Tidings of -Comfort and-.”—Why is a man who marries a

Pretty Girl never likely to be in want of a Fourpenny-piece?—Because
“ a thing of beauty is a Joey for ever ”!!!!!!

PICTURES FOR POSTERITY.

Lord Rector of Scotch University delivering Inaugural
Address. A D. 1882.


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